House Guest
by ThatDayDreamer
Summary: Cover Image credit: anubisdhl [deviantart] You're a foreign exchange student & been granted a scholarship to attend the University of San Andreas, Los Santos (ULSA). Tracey De Santa signed herself up as a volunteer for 1 foreign student to reside at her home for as long as they need (without her parent's permission of course). You've been randomly selected, good luck!
1. Chapter 1: Meet The Family

_You're a foreign exchange student who's been granted a scholarship to attend the University of San Andreas, Los Santos (ULSA).  
_ _Tracey De Santa signed herself up as a volunteer for one foreign student to reside at her home as part of the programme, for as long as they need (without asking her parent's permission of course).  
_ _You've been randomly selected by the university to reside at Miss Tracey De Santa's home until your studies end. Good luck!_

* * *

"Oh my God! We're going to have so much fun!" She squeals and grips the steering wheel of her car in excitement. _She_ being Tracey De Santa, your new _friend_. You watch her try to concentrate on driving through the Los Santos rush hour traffic. You're both on your way back from being introduced at your new university. It's about 3pm and the scorching sun almost blinds you from bouncing off her mirrored aviator shades.

You decide to enjoy the passing beauty of LS and let the air whip through your hair. It cools the rays of sunlight on your skin. Rockford Hills has some beautiful but expensive looking houses. You're unable to enjoy the full extent of the scenery as the radio was deafening; blasting some Pop radio station. A few of the songs you actually didn't mind. You were nervous but Tracey reassured you with a glancing smile, then the two of you were singing your lungs out.

You're unsure whether this was a good idea; signing up to the foreign exchange programme back in your school. You hate to make judgements before getting to know someone, but Tracey doesn't look like the kind of girl you'd get along with. She seemed like the bratty, spoiled, rich Daddy's girl who was probably one of the mean popular kids in high school. You appreciated having time alone with just yourself and your music, and weren't interested in drinking until you lost control of your own bladder or having sex with the entire football team like most people your age.  
There's still time, Tracey may end up surprising you.

The orange-yellow Weeny convertible pulls into a curved brick drive leading to a huge mansion. You're in awe at the Spanish inspired architecture and are still staring at the house when Tracey kills the engine.

"You live... here?!" You say with a pause.

"Uh yah, that's why I drove here." Tracey puts her sunglasses in the glove box and leaves the car. You watch her enter her house. Even the front door was massive. You emerge from the car to open the trunk and grab your bags and suitcase. You stumble almost falling backward when you sling your heavy than expected duffle bag on your shoulder. _Thanks for the help Trace._

Once you step inside and close the heavy wooden door, you hear Tracey speaking to presumably her dad. You place your bags in the corner out of the walk way and take a look around in the hall you're stood in. It's spacious and everything looks too luxurious to touch. You empathise with whoever has to clean this huge house. Your breathing slows as you try to listen to what Tracey is mumbling from the living room to your right, but you can't work out what they're saying and inch closer to a doorway opposite the staircase.

"YOU FUCKING DID WHAT?" You jump at the sudden outburst coming from the living room. Peaking your head around the archway you watch Tracey fold her arms and initiate an argument with her dad. He held a lot of tension in his shoulders when he stood.

"I SIGNED UP FOR THE FOREIGN EXCHANGE STUDENT PROGRAM THINGY DAD!"

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT? I DON'T WANT SOME KNOW-IT-ALL COLLEGE STUDENTS USING MY HOUSE AS A FUCKING FRATERNITY!" Tracey's dad threw his arms up in frustration as he paced the living room. You noticed the raspiness in his voice when he yelled.

"OH MY GOD DAD! You're so embarrassing. It's just one student!"

"I don't care Tracey! You can't rent our house out without mine or your mother's permission! This isn't a fucking motel baby! So you better fucking unsign yourself up for this shit" Tracey's dad begins to walk away and in your direction, he hasn't seen you yet and turns his head to listen to Tracey's reply over his shoulder.

"I can't Dad." Tracey replies in a defeated tone.

"And why not?-" He stops and sees you standing in the hallway. The man frowns his brow above his pale blue eyes at you in confusion.

"Hi." You smile politely and rub your palms on the sides of your jean legs awkwardly.

* * *

The man sighs and runs his palm down his face and over his jaw line. You notice his mole on his matured face when he cracks his neck. You get the feeling this isn't the first time Tracey has done something major without consulting him or her mother before. Tracey moves from the middle of the living room and carefully slides past her father down the couple of steps connecting the living room to the hallway. She stands next to you in the hall. You watch his eyes watching Tracey's every move.

"Dad, this is the foreign exchange student from college." Tracey's standing slightly behind you. It's almost as though she's using you as a shield. There's a painfully long pause.

"Nice to meet you... I'm Y/N." The words stumble out of your mouth. He's staring at you and descends from the living room to stand a step above you and Tracey. Those must've been the bluest eyes you've ever seen.

"Michael." He nods. Michael drags his feet into the kitchen area opposite the front door. You watch him in the kitchen fix himself a drink of whiskey and then walk through the glass doors of the dining room. You watch him light a cigarette.

"Don't worry about him, he'll get over it." Your attention is on Tracey. She pulls you by the hand. "C'mon! I wanna show you your room!" Tracey pulls your hand up the staircase to the second floor of the house.

"What about my stuff?" You point to the pile of luggage in the corner of the hall near the door.

"I'll get my brother to help my dad later to bring it up. C'mon!" Tracey lets go of your hand at the top of the staircase. She opens a door to her left and walks into a spare bedroom with a comfy looking double bed complete with a striking bedspread and decretive pillows. The tall headboard was made of a dark velvety fabric. _The bed alone must've cost a bomb._ On the same wall of the doorway were a chest of drawers and a wide mirror that hung on the wall above it. Tracey sat down on the bed and supported herself with her arms. On the carved, dark wooden bedside tables were stain glass lamps, keeping with the theme of a Spanish style villa.

"Blame my mom for the decorating."

"It's beautiful. This bedroom is huge!"

"Mine's bigger." Tracey then bounces out of this room and you follow her to a bedroom opposite to the one where you'll be sleeping. You push the door she didn't hold open for you and enter Tracey's bedroom. You're quickly grabbed around the shoulders and blinded by a flashing light. You rub your eyes.

"What the fuck?" After blinking your vision back you see Tracey holding a pastel pink camera that's printing out a polaroid. She waves it in the air until she sees an image and hands it to you. You take it from her hand. You study the unflattering face you're making in the image and sigh, but you soon ignore it and notice the funny looking open-mouth pose Tracey is doing in the photo and smile. "Thanks Tracey." You smile at her and hold the picture with a genuine look of gratitude. Tracey smiles back at you and turns to sit down on her bed. You like the way she's decorated her room but it's not exactly your taste.

"So, what do you think of my room?" Tracey asks.

"It's very... purple..." You say looking around at the paisley print of her wallpaper. When your gaze is back on Tracey you're anxious that you've offended her with your bluntness. "-in a-uh good way."

"Thanks... so what do you want to do?" You shrug your shoulders and are about to reply with: _I don't know, what do you want to do?_ before being interrupted by a whiny, masculine voice coming from another bedroom.

"I know what you can do. You can shut the fuck up for once-HAHA YEAH! Headshot! Suck my fat balls bitch! Dude, do you even have a penis? Or are you one of those hermaphro-dudes born without genitals?" You lean out of the doorway of Tracey's room and see another room next to hers with a door ajar. Inside this room it's dark, all you can see is a massive TV screen with a video game character holding a gun, squatting on a lifeless body. You can hear the clicking of a console controller.

"Fuck you Jimmy. Go fuck a Burger Shot" Tracey shouts.

"No thanks. Unlike you Trace, I have _some_ standards." Jimmy fires back. Tracey stands, stomps passed you and into the room you were watching a moment ago. She flips the light on and you watch her snatch Jimmy's controller out of his hand and she throws it at the wall. It lands and breaks on his floor. Jimmy stands. "What the fuck?!" You approach Jimmy's bedroom and watch the two siblings begin to scream at each other. Jimmy is slightly shorter than his sister and holds some more weight around his stomach.

"That was a limited edition controller!" Jimmy rips his headset off and throws it onto his bed.

"I don't care. Buy another one, oh wait, you can't because you don't have any money because you're a bum who can't get a job."

"I can get a job! I just need some experience."

"You'll definitely find that playing video games all day-" Tracey laughs.

"Hey! Stop arguing" You shout, surprising yourself as well as Tracey and Jimmy. They're watching and waiting for your next word. "... please. I don't want to only listen to you two argue while I'm here. I understand you're brother and sister but please just drop it for tonight yeah?" You look at Tracey and Jimmy in the eye and they both hang their heads and show as little eye contact to one another whilst nodding. "I'm Y/N by the way." You introduce yourself to Jimmy.

"Jimmy. A.K.A Jizzle, Big-J, J-Dog, Dangerous-J take your pick." Jimmy was flirting. You nodded and smiled politely. Tracey rolled her eyes. Your attention was quickly drawn to hushed words in the hallway downstairs. You moved towards the stairs and leaned over slightly to look down from the top of the stairs and saw Michael. He had come back inside and was talking to a woman of similar age to himself. She was dressed in white tennis gear and was trying to understand his anger whilst trying to reason with him.

"I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it Michael. She was probably thinking she was trying to help out. A lot of schools have trouble housing foreign exchange students."

"I know 'Mand, but she didn't even ask us."

"I'll talk to her." The woman rubbed Michael's back and glanced in your direction. You sprung backwards avoiding her gaze. "Tracey?"

"Yeah Mom?" Tracey was lying on her stomach on her bed with her knee socked legs bent upward. She's scrolling through her phone. Jimmy closes his bedroom door and salutes you with his index finger and middle finger together, as a gesture of goodbye before his door closes. You hear the audio from his video game continue and he's shouting profanities into his headset again.

"Can you come here please?" Tracey descends the staircase in a huff. She tells you as she passes she won't be long. You decide to wait at the top of the stairs. You hear a mumble of Tracey and her mother talking about your situation and Michael loudly chimes in a couple of times. Then it ends abruptly and Tracey comes up the stairs to get you.

"My mom wants to meet you." Tracey says and turns for you to follow her. You do so and are lead into the shiny kitchen where you see Michael, and Tracey's mother shushing him as you enter the room. You wear a courteous smile as Tracey's mom approaches you.

"Hello, I'm Amanda and this is Michael." Amanda points to Michael.

"Hi. I'm Y/N." Your hand does a little awkward wave.

"Don't look so nervous, if you're going to living here, you may as well have a tour of the house. I'll show you around" Your first impression of Amanda was positive. She seemed nice enough.

"'Mand?" Michael says sharply before being cut off by Tracey.

"So Y/N can stay?" Tracey's tone was high.

"It's ok with me. Are you ok with it Michael?" Amanda turns to face Michael and he throws his hands up in defeat as though whatever he said wouldn't matter anyway.

"Yeah, sure." Michael said flatly with a sigh. Amanda returns to you and Tracey.

"It's a bit sudden though Tracey, so don't ever do anything like this again without consulting us first. Deal?" Amanda was firm yet forgiving.

"I promise Mom. Sorry-YAY THANK YOU!" Tracey screams and claps.

"Tracey has shown you the guest room I assume?" You try to retain eye contact with Amanda but Michael catches your eye when he pours himself another drink. You look back to Amanda and nod. "Good!" Amanda ushers you to the dining table "This is our dining room, out there is the pool, hot tub and down the steps there is the tennis court."

"Wow. This place is amazing." You hear Michael scoff rudely from the kitchen. Amanda flashes a frown in the direction of the kitchen and continues. "In here is our living room" Amanda was standing in front of the white sofas of the living room and then points to where you met Michael. "And through there is the hallway where you came in."

"Did you decorate the downstairs too Mrs De Santa?" You ask as you're admiring the strange portraits of Jimmy and Tracey that stand out amongst the other lavish paintings and furniture.

"Please, call me Amanda."

"Okay, Amanda." You smile.

"Yes, I did actually, why?"

"It's lovely just like the guest bedroom."

"Well," Amanda was flustered, she wasn't expecting a compliment. "Thank you very much Y/N."

"You're welcome." You reply. Amanda smiles warmly at you.

"Right. I'm going to have a nice relaxing post workout bath. Sit down. Tracey watch something with Y/N will you?" Amanda heads upstairs and Tracey sits you down where Michael was sitting before. She takes a seat next to you and presses a button on the remote. A projector screen slowly inches down in front of you. She flips through the channels and settles on a program called Fame Or Shame.

"Oh I've heard of this show, aren't the contestants like bat shit crazy?" You laugh. You thought you heard a small laugh from the kitchen, Tracey however doesn't laugh with you. You look over to her and try to find out why.

"I was a contestant." She says annoyed.

"Sorry, I- You're not bat shit crazy."

"I was disqualified."

"What did you do?"

" _I_ didn't do anything. I was just doing my routine, and killing it, the judges were really into it" You began to notice when Tracey spoke a whole lot, the tone of her sentences would always go up at the end. She began to shout so her Dad could hear her from the kitchen. "Then my bat shit crazy Dad and his best friend barged into my audition and totally freaked out on Lazlow the presenter."

"Why did they do that?" Tracey shrugs her shoulders.

"I was stopping her from being the national laughing stock" Michael enters from the dining room. His presence makes you jump slightly.

"I could have been famous." Tracey spits with some venom.

"Try college first. Then if you feel like it, go try again. I can't stop you." Michael sits next to Tracey on the longer side of the sofa.

"That was my big break Dad! Fame Or Shame probably won't be around when I'm done with college."

"Maybe then it wasn't meant to be." Michael says with compassion.

"OR maybe it was, and you and Uncle Trevor just blew it?" Tracey was genuinely hurt from her Dad's decision to stop her auditioning, even if it was the best thing for her. Michael downed his glass of amber liquid to stop himself from lashing out in front of you. After he finished he cracked his neck again.

"Ooh, ouch. My ears are burning!" You and Tracey looked to see who this additional voice was. Michael sprung up from staring at the floor and stood protectively. You saw a very tall, top heavy man in the archway leading to the hallway. He was leaning like he's been stood there for a while. Tracey changed her tune and ran towards the man to hug him.

"Trevor! What are you doing here?" Tracey said with a smile. Trevor wrapped one of his big, meaty arms around her caringly and she gave him a squeeze around his small waist.

"I guess this is the Uncle Trevor Tracey was talking about" You laugh quietly to Michael. He just looked down at you and gave you a forced smile and then continued to keep his eyes on Trevor. Michael was tense; you weren't sure as to why. Tracey let go of Trevor when he advanced toward you. You stood out of courtesy but Michael was quickly by your side. Trevor didn't notice Michael's demeanour when he entered the living room.

"And who are you cupcake?" Trevor gave you a creepy smile before turning to Michael. "Miiichael." Trevor tuts and shakes his head. "Shame on you."

"What?" Michael's confused.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" You're very aware of where Trevor's eyes are and clear your throat. You try not to make eye contact with him. Before Michael can say a word, Tracey introduces the two of you for him.

"Trevor, this is Y/N, she's a foreign exchange student from my college. She's going to be staying with us while she studies at ULSA. Y/N this is my uncle Trevor, he's my dad's best friend."

"Nice to meet you." Trevor holds out his hand for you to shake it. You're hesitant but respectfully accept the handshake. You notice a small tattoo of a scorpion above his thumb and the rest of his tattoos on his knuckles. His hand is warm but rough. Trevor lingers a bit too long with the shake and Michael pulls his hand away from yours. Trevor gives him an angry stare before following him into the dining room and outside by the pool. You can see them doing a lot of hand gestures and frowning at each other but they aren't loud enough to hear clearly.

"He's not supposed to be here." Tracey remarks. She's sitting down on the sofa again texting someone.

"Who? Trevor? I thought you said he was your dad's best friend."

"He is. But my mom doesn't want Trevor around us; she says he's a bad influence."

"That's probably why your dad took him outside to talk to him, to see what he wants?"

"I guess." Tracey replies without looking up from her phone. Her phone begins to ring. "I'm just gonna go upstairs, I gotta take this call. I won't be long."

"Okay. I'm gonna get a glass of water and then probably unpack." You call to Tracey as she's heading up the stairs.

"Okay!" She shouts back. You're stood alone in the living room and try to casually avoid looking in the direction of Michael and Trevor as you enter the kitchen. You're intrigued to know what they were talking about. You catch the end of a conversation of an unknown topic. You can hear them better in the kitchen.

"So what's the score?" Trevor asks.

"What?" Michael replies.

"The foreign exchange student. She's beautiful, in a young and naive sort of way."

"The fuck? Trevor she's the same age as Tracey for God's sake."

"Don't give me that bullshit! As if you haven't thought about it."

"Fucking Christ."

You're embarrassed to what you've just heard and try to drink your water as quickly as you can. It doesn't occur to you to just take it upstairs with you. You rinse the cup and turn towards the kitchen archway leading out to the hallway. You're cheeks are burning as you try your hardest to take your entire luggage up the stairs by yourself in one trip. You're about half way and lose your balance from the weight and stumble.

"As long as she's legal I don't give a fuck." Trevor holds his arms up in a shameless way and shrugs.

"Yeah, we all know you and the not giving a fuck, T."

"Fuck you Mikey."

"Can't you just leave now?"

"Fine. I've got shit to do anyway-" Trevor turns on his heel but is startled with Michael by a loud noise from inside. The noise is from your suitcase crashing back down the stairs. The two men come jogging into the hall and observe the suitcase on its side. The contents of your suitcase spill onto the floor in front of them. Trevor notices some of your underwear. You've witnessed Trevor and Michael eyeing your sexy underwear. You packed _just incase._ Before any of them get a glimpse back at your tomato of a face, you've bolted into the spare bedroom. Seeing you run away from the situation makes Trevor grin wickedly. You drop the bags you were able to hold onto, on the floor of the spare room and slide your back down against the closed door. Meanwhile, Michael is scooping up your clothing back into your suitcase and carries it to your door and leaves it outside. You're listening closely to their footsteps. They're getting further and further away before you jump out of your skin due to some hard knocking on the door.

"DELIVERY!" Trevor teases. His voice is high pitched as if he's about to burst out laughing. You hang your head in the palms of your hands and cringe.


	2. Chapter 2: Rash Decisions

You hang around in your room for the time being, until your face returns to a colour that's not so red. You bring your phone out and watch a youtube video and lay on your new bed. About an hour has passed and you hear a timid knocking on your door. You remove your earphones and stand to open your door. It's Jimmy.

"Hey, uh dinner's ready." Jimmy rubs the back of his head and points to the staircase with his thumb.

"Ok, thanks." You say stuffing your earphones and phone in your pocket. You wheeled your suitcase Michael dropped off outside the door into your room then walk with Jimmy down the stairs. Before you enter the dining room you take a large breath and sit down at the table. Tracey is already seated and smiles at you when you choose the seat next to her. Jimmy takes a seat next to you and pulls out his phone. You watch Amanda plate up the meals and wonder if you should offer to help.

"So what were you doing for so long in your room?" Tracey pipes up.

"Unpacking" You lied. You decide to change the subject. "What are we having?"

"Spaghetti." Tracey replies. She looks down on the table and checks her phone for any activity.

"Oh good, I love spaghetti!" You look over to Amanda in the kitchen. "Do you want some help Mrs De S-Amanda?"

"I'm alright Y/N. I'm nearly done now. Who wants garlic bread?" Amanda shouts with her back turned.

"I wouldn't mind some garlic bread." Jimmy says as he thumbs his phone.

"None for me Mom." Tracey replies, Jimmy looks up from his phone.

"Still cutting down on carbs, or do you have a date tonight?" Jimmy jokes.

"Both." Tracey answers. That must've been who she was texting earlier.

"You have a date tonight?" You ask disappointed. You were hoping you and Tracey would spend some time watching romantic comedies in her room. _I guess it'll have to wait._

"Yeah." Tracey replies, not looking up from her phone.

"Who with? Anyone I know?" Jimmy continues. Tracey gives Jimmy a disgusted look.

"Ew no, like I would go on a date with anyone from your social circle." Tracey was harsh. Jimmy brushed it off. Amanda brought over your meals and set down separate plates of garlic bread in front of you and Jimmy. Tracey didn't even eat half of the small amount that was on her plate and left the table and climbed back upstairs. She was probably planning on eating whilst on her date. Amanda kept looking at her watch every now and then and sighing.

You tucked into your meal. It was delicious. Jimmy asked if you were finished with your garlic bread, you nodded and slid the plate to him.

"No Michael?" You start making conversation with Amanda.

"Nope." Amanda popped the p sounding aggravated. "You'd think he's call or text or something. He left with Trevor to do God only knows what."

"I'm sure he's fine." You reassure her.

"Dad's probably up in Blaine County right now, sharing meth with Uncle T." Jimmy laughs but forgets you're sitting at the table. He quickly realises when Amanda kicks him under the table. "I-I mean going out with a drink with Uncle T?" Jimmy turns to Amanda and she makes a face at him.

"Wait. That guy Trevor takes meth? Aren't meth heads really unstable?" You ask intrigued. Amanda stands and begins to stack the finished plates. She looks you in the eye.

"Please don't think any less of us from the company Michael likes to keep. I didn't know Trevor was in the house earlier."

"Uncle T is harmless." Jimmy chimes in.

"I don't like him being around my kids, or friends of my kids."

"But you'll let another one of dad's friends take Tracey out on a date." Jimmy challenges his mother.

"What Tracey does or who she wants to go out with is her business. Franklin seems like a nice boy." Amanda finishes the conversation and cleans up the dishes in the kitchen.

"This guy Franklin is a friend of your dad's, so is he like your dad's age?" You ask Jimmy.

"Hell no, Franklin is a couple years older than Tracey."

"And your Dad is ok with this?"

"He doesn't know."

"That doesn't sound good." You worry.

"Tell me about it." Jimmy takes his phone out of his pocket and types and walks out of the room "Thanks for dinner Mom." He continues walking upstairs to his room.

"You're welcome sweetie." Amanda calls back. You get up and try to help Amanda with the washing up but you have no idea where anything is and you just end up getting in her way. "Y/N I'm fine, really. Thank you."

"Sorry." You stutter almost dropping a plate.

"It's fine. Go on, go help Tracey get ready." Amanda suggests. You set the plate you were holding down on the counter and make your way to Tracey's room. You creak open the door and Tracey's playlist is blearing. She's sat at her dressing table applying mascara. She sees you in her mirror and turns and stands.

"Okay, I need your opinion," Tracey digs through her wardrobe and brings out two tight cocktail dresses. "this one, or this one?" Tracey switches between the two dresses she holds up to her body. You're useless at this kind of stuff, so you shrug your shoulders and Tracey asks you again. You choose one at random and Tracey looks at the dress you chose and settles on the other option. You politely turn away when she undresses and she pulls on her grey strappy cocktail dress. "You can look now." You turn and Tracey strokes the fabric to remove any lint. "What do you think?"

"You look stunning" You admit.

"I know right! Hand me that heel by the door will you?" You pass Tracey the black high-heeled shoe and she slips them on her feet. She grabs her clutch and digs around for the final touch of her taupe matt lip gloss. She scrunches her golden hair and makes it sit right before the two of you hear a knock from the front door.

You help Tracey to the stairs and you descend first in case you need to catch her. She smells like vanilla. As you leave the staircase and lend a hand to Tracey, Amanda opens the front door. You see a muscular man in an expensive but well fitting shirt. He's wearing smart jeans and matching smart shoes.

"Hey Mrs De Santa, is Tracey ready?" The man asks almost whispering.

"Michael's not here." Amanda says bluntly with a smile. She walks away and into the living room to continue the reality TV show she was watching.

"Oh" The man steps inside and admires Tracey but his eyes are also drawn to you, a stranger.

"Franklin this is Y/N. Y/N, Franklin." Tracey says with a strange high pitched tone. She's probably nervous.

"Wha'Sup?" Franklin greets you.

"Nice to meet you." You reply. His cologne is strong but pleasant. He turns back to Tracey.

"'Ey Trace you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go. See you later, BYE MOM!" Franklin holds the front door for Tracey and follows her out. Franklin closes the door carefully. You're unsure what to do now and just stand in the hallway for a bit, you're about to walk away before you hear shouting from the drive way. It sounds awfully familiar.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" You recognise that hoarse voice. You swing the door open and step out the door. It's dusk. The driveway is lit up from Franklin's pricey looking sports car. Amanda is behind you also curious to what the racket was.

"Michael man, chill the fuck out!" Franklin is trying to calm Michael down as he stumbles out of his black sedan. Trevor emerges from the passenger side of Michael's car. Trevor spots you standing by the front door. He gives you a creepy smile whilst adjusting his sweatpants. He leans against Michael's car to get a good angle of the situation. You ignore him and watch Michael's outburst. You see Tracey's shadow though the tinted windows of Franklin's car. She's shaking her head and trying to hide her face.

"CHILL OUT?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU TAKING MY DAUGHTER?" Michael begins to charge at Franklin. Franklin's muscles stiffen, ready to defend himself.

"Michael what the fuck are you doing?" Amanda shouts. She moves around you and approaches Michael to try and calm the raging father.

"Did you fucking know about this?" Michael asks breathless, hoping she would say no.

"Yes I did!" Amanda shouts back.

"Franklin man, bad timing." Trevor shakes his head at Franklin. You try to hide a smirk.

"You ain't exactly helping T." Franklin spits through his teeth. He shifts his focus straight back onto Michael and speaks calmly. "Look Michael, Tracey can make her own decisions-"

"MY DAUGHTER FRANK?! MY FUCKING DAUGHTER?" Michael turns red from the strain of his voice and Amanda tries her best to hold him back. He barges through her with his hard shoulders and over to Franklin's car to where Tracey is sitting. He's scarily calm now. "Get out of the car Tracey."

"Fuck you dad!" Tracey was almost in tears.

"I SAID GET OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR" Michael opens the car door with so much force he could've ripped it off the car. Tracey emerges, removes her shoes and carries them as she stomps back up the driveway towards you.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" Tracey shouts back at Michael before running passed you. You step away from her to stop her from running into you. You can hear Tracey sobbing up to her room. _Should I go after her?_ You jump from the sound of her bedroom door slamming. _Nope._

"Nice. Well done Michael!" Amanda remarks with sarcasm and walks back in the house presumably after Tracey. Michael stretches his neck a few times as he's still raging. Franklin doesn't want any more trouble with Michael and without a word, shakes his head and leaves in his car out the drive way. You watch Michael with caution just in case he starts on you. After pacing a few times he seems to have calmed down.

"You alright man?" Trevor finally breaks the silence. Michael nods with an inhale of cool evening air. "Sorry you had to find out this way kid" You hear Trevor's Canadian accent when he shouts over to you. You're unsure by what he means. "You're living with a dysfunctional family!" Trevor tries to lighten the mood. Michael ignores him and drags himself inside his home. You watch him walk into the living room then he's out of sight.

When you turn back to Trevor you make eye contact then raise your eyebrows and thin your lips at him as if to say well that was awkward. Trevor approaches you as you slide down to sit on the step of the front door. You take in a big breath and exhale.

"And I thought _I_ was the crazy one." Trevor jokes. You shake your head and make a small laugh. Trevor sits down next to you. You watch him from the corner of your eye but look straight ahead for a minute or two. You need some calm for a moment. You watch the shrubs rustle in the breeze, until Trevor breaks the silence. "So do you like older men?" He was trying to make you uncomfortable again, he seemed to enjoy it. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction and turn to him with an unexpected answer.

"You don't waste time do you?" Trevor smiles and you see him tongue the inside of his cheek. He's impressed that you're not instantly repulsed by him.

"Pssst. T! Hey T!" You and Trevor hear a voice coming from somewhere near the gate leading out of the De Santa property. You make out a figure crouching near a thorn bush. Trevor quickly recognises the voice.

"Frank, lurking in the bushes can get you arrested y'know." Trevor quipped. Franklin crouch walks from the bush to avoid any windows Michael might see him out of. He's on one knee when he reaches the two of you.

"T man, can you help me with that thang dog? Seein' as though my previous plans have been put on hold. Me and Lamar need your help with that thang" Franklin is still cautious for any signs of Michael.

"What thing?" You notice Trevor sits up straight from his curiosity.

"The thang..." Franklin shifts his focus from you to Trevor. He's waiting for you to leave but you don't get the message. Trevor stands.

"Fucking spit it out!" You see Trevor's mood change almost instantly when he's annoyed.

"Stretch's cats are fucking with Lamar man, we need to y'know..." Franklin motions his head away from the house.

"No Frank, I don't know."

"Fuck them up man, c'mon!"

"Right now?"

"Yeah man, now. They'd be least expecting it"

"Alright, lead the way Frank." Trevor begins to walk away with Franklin but turns back to you as you speak.

"Try not to get shot." You laugh as you wave them off. Franklin is near the gate at the end of the drive way. While Trevor is walking backward not taking his tired eyes off you.

"Until next time my dear!" He flashes a grin towards you and reaches his meaty arm in the air to wave goodbye. You try not to blush and stand and give him a little wave. You turn away and step inside the house before being pulled by the hand back outside. You frown at Trevor.

"What the?"

"Can you drive?" Trevor has a crazy look in his chocolatey eyes.

"Yeah... why?" You study Trevor's face to try and decipher where he was going with this.

"Great! C'mon!" Trevor leads you down the drive way and over to Franklin's car. It's parked on the inclined street not far outside the gate. Franklin opens the driver seat door, steps out and shuts it hard, before continuing towards you and Trevor.

"T, what the fuck? She ain't coming." Franklin rudely points at you.

"You have trouble making new friends don't'cha Franklin?" Trevor's let go of your hand and is now standing next to you.

"T! I ain't babysitting or whatever the fuck you think you doin'" Franklin was shouting now, he was confident Michael couldn't hear him from this far from the house.

"DON'T BE SO FUCKING RUDE FRANK." Trevor says with some rage. When he addresses you he calms down as he's afraid he may scare you. "Y/N is a full grown woman. She can look after herself, AND! She can drive."

"So?"

"SOOO, she can be the getaway, if we need it. Which we probably won't, but just in case."

"Do I get a say in this?" You ask timidly. Trevor and Franklin both look at you, both wanting an opposite decision from you. You don't want to go back into the De Santa home with that looming atmosphere. You signed yourself up for some adventure with this foreign student exchange. You may as well make the most of it, it wasn't exactly the exciting exploration you had in mind but you go out on a limb and make a decision. "... Fuck it. Let's go."

"YES!" Trevor exclaims and Franklin rubs his palm on his eyes and sighs.

"As long as yo bitch ass knows what you gettin' yoself into." Franklin says under his breath. He turns and gets back into the driver's seat. The engine roars to life. Trevor opens the passenger door for you and you thank him and sit. After Trevor closes your door he gets in the seat behind Franklin. Trevor leans his head in between the two front seats.

"Seatbelts! Safety first." Trevor says with a smile. You listen and pull the seatbelt and it makes a click noise when you're secure. Franklin sighs. "I'm not kidding Frank." Trevor says sternly. Franklin sighs then reluctantly clicks his on also.


	3. Chapter 3: Making Connections

Franklin slowly pulls into to a rough looking neighbourhood. It didn't even cross your mind that LS could be like this. Clusters of people wearing similar colours hung on street corners in different areas and none of them seemed to bat an eyelid when distant gunshots could be heard. You were beginning to regret your impulsiveness. You didn't just feel afraid but you also felt sorry for the striking dissimilarity Southern Los Santos is compared to where the De Santa's live.

"A'ight. Lamar said he's around here." Franklin says whilst finding a place to park. The stores, houses, and apartments you pass are all rundown and in poor condition. Eyes of the men and women dressed in green that huddled under street lights, followed you as Franklin parked the car. Franklin reached over your lap and opened the glove compartment of the car and grabbed a pistol and a mag. The gun made a click sound when he loaded it. You weren't aware he was handing it to you to use. You assumed it was him until he was more obvious. "Take it."

"Are you serious? I've never held a gun before!" You're shaking under your seatbelt.

"You wanted to come here." Franklin opened your hand and placed the gun on it. You just stare at it. "T man, show her how to use a fucking gun. Imma go find Lamar." Franklin exits his car and begins to walk away. He pulls his phone out and dialled a number then holds it to his ear. Trevor knocks the passenger window making you jump and fumble the gun in your hand. Once it's secure in your grasp you remove your seatbelt and leave the car. Trevor watches you hold the gun in a strange, uncomfortable way. He frowns at you.

"The safety is on, you're fine." Trevor reassures you. You make a sigh of relief. "Look, the only way you're going to be comfortable with doing something is actually doing it, right?" You look up at Trevor and nod. Trevor looks around the neighbourhood and struts over to what it is he was looking for. He slaps a metal lid off of a trashcan and it clangs on the sidewalk. He bends over and digs through the trash, you and some people dressed in baggy green t-shirts watch him in puzzlement before he emerges with empty beer cans and empty glass bottles. Trevor carries them in his arms almost dropping a few and starts lining some on a tall wall connecting to a garage. The garage wall had some gang graffiti sign spray painted on it.

"It's cheaper than a shooting range." Trevor laughed while he approached you. He shows you the safety switch and switches it off whilst the gun is pointed at the floor. "Now, look at what you want to shoot and bring the gun up to aim." You straighten your arms in front of your chest and aim at the biggest bottle about thirty feet away from you. You feel Trevor's presence lurking behind you. He's looking over your shoulder. You can feel his hot breath in your ear as he speaks calmly almost whispering. "Now, watch out for the recoil and prepare for the noise. Then when you're ready, pull the trigger. Easy peasy." Trevor takes a step back behind you to avoid bumping into you from the recoil.

You line up the bottle in your sight and stare at it for a few seconds before pulling the trigger with your two index fingers. The power from the pistol makes you stumble backward into Trevor's hard chest. You didn't even see where the bullet went.

"Did I hit anything?" You ask steadying yourself with Trevor's help. You're ears ring slightly and you watch gang members snigger at your attempt. They don't feel threatened by your shooting abilities.

"You hit the wall below the bottles." Trevor chuckles shortly before noticing the gang members pointing and laughing. You don't care and try to ignore them but Trevor despises people laughing at him, always has done. He's not going to let them laugh at you. He gives them an aggressive stance and starts to approach them. "HEY THE FUCK YOU LAUGHING AT? HUH?" The gang members quiet down when they see the look in Trevor's eye.

"Trevor! Don't please!" You pull on his arm back towards you. He gives in and keeps an eye on the small gang. Trevor keeps watch beside you as you ready your aim again and take a few more shots.

You become accustom to the strength of the recoil and then on the sixth or seventh shot, the bullet hits the green bottle and it shatters. You're overjoyed at your accomplishment and begin to punch the air and doing so accidentally fire the gun in the air above you. It startled you as well as Trevor and the gang members watching on. Trevor pulls your arm down and clicks the safety back on with some force.

"Sorry" You mouthed with your jaw clenched. Trevor inhaled and forgave you by taking the pistol out of your hands. You swear you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins from your surge of energy.

"Well done lil' missy. You just shot and killed your first target. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO NEXT?" Trevor said that last bit like a cheesy TV show host would. He saw that it made you smile.

Franklin approached from behind the two of you and you turned around to greet him. The unfamiliar person he was walking with must've been Lamar. He was slimmer and taller than Franklin, walking a black and brown Rottweiler on a chain leash. When the dog got close enough he began to sniff your legs.

"Frank who dis?" Lamar was referring to you and pointed with the leash in his hand. After petting Lamar's dog on the head you speak up.

"I'm Y/N, and you're Lamar I take it?" You answer for Franklin. Lamar looks you up and down.

"I ain't seen you in the hood-"

"That's cos she ain't from the hood homie. She livin' at Michael's house." Franklin interrupts.

"Rich Michael? Shit, you a long way from home" Lamar stares at you but his focus is quickly disrupted by Trevor.

"Hey, let's go do something about the thing, okay?"

"We doin' this man, no drama. Just in and out." Franklin is serious and also slightly uneasy but tries not to show it.

"Now where's the fun in that?" Trevor remarked.

"What exactly is the thing we're doing?" You ask.

"We? You're goin? You sure you can handle yoself?" Franklin doesn't have much faith in you.

"I'll be careful." You say sternly, you wanted to be useful.

"Na man, this could work in our favour dog." Lamar rubs his chin as his brain sprouts a plan.

"How the fuck we gon' get it to work in our favour?" Franklin mimics Lamar.

"Ballas never seen her before man. She could be our motherfucking spy." Lamar's idea might just work. Franklin and Trevor look at each other unsure of this plan.

"What do you want me to do?" You ask confidently.

"Watch and listen for Ballas, those the cats in purple. Listen out where them fools is getting their shit." Lamar hands you the dog leash. "Walk Chop over on their turf man, look all inconspicuous n'shit." You notice Lamar talks a lot with his arms and hands, similar to how some rappers are portrayed.

"Hold up, she gon' need more than a fucking dog as back up man. This gurl only jus' learned to shoot a gun bro."

"Fo' real?" Lamar looks you in the eye and you nod in shame.

"I'll fucking go with her. I doubt any of those Ballas will remember my face." Trevor suggests.

"Yo' face ain't exactly forgettable homie." Lamar confesses. Trevor points at Lamar with his index finger and was about to fire off at him but stopped himself.

"It's all we got fool." Franklin sides with Trevor.

"A'ight man shit. They over on Covenant Avenue. Try not to get clapped man." Lamar points you both in the direction of the area of South LS where the street gang The Ballas tend to congregate.

"Fucking beautiful, let's party. Come on." Trevor waves his arm for you to follow him and you scurry to catch up with him. Chop jogs alongside you. Trevor hands you your gun back and tells you to tuck it into your jeans at the back and pull your shirt over to hide it.

"Do you know where you're going?" You ask Trevor but he avoids the question.

"Just keep a look out for a purple gangbang." Trevor is scouring the streets for any sign of the Ballas. You understand Trevor meant a gangbang as a bunch of gang members but you couldn't help but smirk at that statement. You're both walking for near enough twenty minutes before you start to complain.

"This is hopeless." You confess.

"Negativity will you get you nowhere Y/N." Trevor continues still watching the streets as he spoke. He clocks some gang members wearing purple and struts over to them. You try your best to keep up with Trevor's pace but you looked too suspicious. He was moving too quickly because of his long legs and way too hostile.

"Trevor!" You whisper shout and push on his shoulder in front of him to slow him down. "We're here for information. That's it. You look like you're about to rip someone's head off. Relax your shoulders a bit. We're only walking our dog remember?" Trevor raises his eyebrows whilst looking down at you. You don't like the way he's looking at you.

" _Our_ dog?" Trevor stares at you. You're unaware of Trevor's creepy tone.

"Yeah... a dog that we're both pretending to own and are therefore taking him for a pretend walk..."

"Role play. I can do that." Trevor growls. You finally understand where he was going with this and roll your eyes. You turn your back on him and walk in front with Chop. Trevor admires the way your hips sway and tilts his head to the side slightly. It doesn't take him long to catch up. You acknowledge him next to you and signal with your eyes that you're approaching the Ballas.

The Ballas wore similar baggy attire to the gang members who watched you learn to handle a gun. The only difference is the unifying purple colours and not green. They're sitting on a wall outside a rundown apartment complex across the road from the two of you. They seem to be waiting for someone. You and Trevor stop next to a street light and try to look unnoticeable. Ten minutes or so roll by and Trevor nudges you when another handful of men and women wearing purple approach the ones on the wall.

The now seven or so members of the Ballas street gang cautiously walked into the apartment complex. As soon as they were out of sight, Trevor quietly made his way in the same direction with his gun drawn and you followed. You slid your gun out of the back of your jeans just in case, and you, Trevor and Chop sneaked up the metal outdoor stairs slowly, only emerging from around the last corner when Trevor saw the last of the Ballas were all inside one room. The door closes and you remain behind Trevor as he crouched next to the wall by the door the Ballas disappeared into. He pressed his ear to the wall. You did the same.

"You got the shit?" The Ballas' voices were muffled but clear enough to make out what they were saying to one another through the paper thin walls.

"Present and accounted for." There was a pause. You assumed they were counting the money or drugs or probably both.

"My compliments to the chef." The buyers all snickered. You frowned at their lame joke.

"We done here?"

"Yeah man." You hear the Ballas advance to the door and you and Trevor stumble as you rush to get up. You pull Chop away and get a safe distance away from the door. The two of you settle on a corner above the stairs and slide your guns on the floor behind you. The Ballas are about to recognise your faces and neither you or Trevor can come up with a plan. Time is running out as they emerge from the apartment so you decide to think on your feet.

"Quick Trevor, pretend to be kissing my neck" Trevor gives you a look as he's unsure if you're serious. You wave your hands toward yourself for confirmation whilst also looking over to the opening door to judge how much time you have left before they realise you've followed them up here.

"Well, that would be my pleasure." Trevor says calmly then you're suddenly pushed up into the corner. Trevor slides his large hands around your waist and around the back of you and his head cranes down to bite your neck to make it look convincing. You exhale sharply. The Ballas glance at you as they walk with their duffle bag, and nudge the rest of the members to look. You scratch at the back of Trevor's head and fake a moan. They smile and just walk passed you and Trevor and down the stairs. Your chin is resting on Trevor's shoulder trying to catch their conversation as a tongue and lips lick and kiss the bottom of your neck.

"Tell them Lost fools we on our way back with the paper." One of the Ballas says to another one. The one walking beside him pulls out his phone and calls a number. Once the call is connected he speaks.

"'Ey man we got the paper. We'll meet you in East Vinewood-" They disappear around the corner and out of the apartment complex to the street. You push Trevor off of you and rub your neck. Trevor stumbles backward with wide eyes.

"Not so rough next time Trev." Your hand feels around for the bite mark on your neck.

"I was just role playing sweetheart." You watch him adjust his sweatpants again.

"Really?" You're breathless(probably from the danger). "Tell me what they said as they went down the stairs." You order, knowing Trevor was too preoccupied to hear a word they said. You pick up the guns from the floor behind you and pass one to Trevor with your brow raised.

"Mmmh you were just too darn loud sugar, I couldn't hear anything else." Trevor growled as he moistened his lips. You swallow and wet your throat.

"They're meeting 'lost fools'" You say the words lost fools with air quotes and a shrug as you're not aware what it means. You begin to descend the staircase with Chop and continue down the stairs as you speak back to Trevor "and by the way, I was role playing too." You hear Trevor laugh softly. He swung his head backward in the air as a sign of sexual frustration and then back down before jumping two steps at a time down the stairs.

As you walk Chop out of the entrance to the complex and onto the sidewalk, Trevor isn't far behind you and pulls his phone out to call Franklin and Lamar. Trevor describes the surroundings and you hear Franklin on the other line saying they'll be right over. It's an awkward couple of minutes of you trying not to make eye contact with Trevor so you just end up stroking Chop a few times until you recognise Franklin's car. He comes to a hard stop and you and Trevor climb in with Chop. Franklin takes off quickly before any Ballas notice you were there.

"So where them Ballas getting their product from?" Lamar starts.

"I heard them say they were meeting 'lost fools' to give them the money." You reply.

"'lost fools'?..." Lamar is unsure as you are.

"You think these are the same Lost you were beefin' with T? I've seen bikers hanging in East Vinewood." Franklin looks briefly in the rear view mirror then back on the road. Trevor is about to reply before you cut him off.

"It must be! I heard them say they were meeting to exchange the money in East Vinewood."

"Well daym gurl. You ain't as useless as Frank was making you out to be! Good lookin' out!" Lamar turns and fist bumps you. You smile and reciprocate the gesture then look over to Trevor. He has one of his eyebrows raised at you.

"Yeah, she a regular gangbanger now, shit." Franklin remarks sarcastically and shakes his head. You catch his eye in the rear view mirror. He notices a dark mark on your neck as you turned your head to look at Trevor. "'Ey, did those Ballas hit you or something? You got a nasty bruise on yo neck." You grab the side of your neck out of impulse and try to brush it off.

"OH this? No- I- uh-slipped on something." The excuse wasn't at all convincing.

"What and you landed on yo neck?" Lamar asks looking at Trevor. Trevor shrugs.

"Yeah." You say looking out the car window. Lamar loses interest and turns back to face the windscreen. Your cheeks burn and you feel the back of someone's cool hand on one side of your face.

"Frank, turn your heat off. Y/N's burning up over here." Trevor says slyly as he removes his hand. You shoot him an evil stare and he just smirks at you. Trevor's figured out how to wind you up.

"The fuck? I don't have any heat on T." Franklin turns to Lamar. "We straight L? We helped you with that thang dog."

"Oh so the recently rich motherfucker won't help his homies clap some other homies tryin' to run up on their business? You've changed bro."

"Yeah I fucking changed. I ain't in the hood no more. If you want my help clappin' those fools some other time hit me up. As for now dog I'm tired. I ain't in the mood for this shit, I'm goin' home man."

"Back to yo big ol empty fuckin' house in Rockford Hills? Have fun. Man just drop me off here, I'm done with yo shit." Franklin pulls onto the side of the road and Lamar speaks as he's getting out.

"I'm a motherfucking gangster, you know how I do. I can take care of my sizelf." Lamar slams the car door and flips the bird at Franklin as he walks away. Franklin presses a button to bring his driver side window down and stretches his head out to call after him.

"No the fuck you cizain't." You and Trevor wait to see if Franklin will kick you two out of the car as well but instead pats a seat cushion and Chop scrambles onto the passenger seat. Franklin shuffles himself to turn and address the back of the car. "Where you fools goin'?"

"Drop us off at my strip club Frank. I'll take Y/N back to Michael's." Trevor replies. Franklin looks at you and then at Trevor. Trevor grows inpatient as Franklin waits for your verification. "Unless you want to go back to Michael's and deal with that shit again?"

"A'ight man, I'll drop you off in Strawberry." Franklin pulls out again. It isn't too long until Franklin turns into the parking lot of a building that has a pink glow about it and you notice a tall rusting sign that is in need of a clean. It reads "Vanilla Unicorn Gentlemans Club".

"A'ight man, here we are." Franklin says as the car comes to a halt but with the motor still running. You guess he's not sticking around.

"Thanks F. C'mon you." Trevor get's out and pulls you by the wrist with him. You give Franklin a smile as you shuffle over the back seat and he raises his hand as a wave goodbye. Trevor lets go of you and you close the door. Franklin revs the racing engine of his car. You watch his buffalo speed down the road until he's out of sight.


	4. Chapter 4: Reckless Scorpion

You turn to see what Trevor was going to say or do next, but he's already near the entrance of the building. You follow and watch him greet the bouncer then strut into his establishment. You give a passing nod to the large bouncer and enter Vanilla Unicorn. As you turn the corner you see a strip pole on a stage with a woman grinding on the long metal beam that connects to the ceiling. The heavy bass from the music makes your ribcage rattle inside you. You can't help but stare at the woman as she does her routine. She's mesmerising. You're trying to enjoy the pole dancer but can't help but hear a faint voice calling your name. It's difficult to hear which direction it's being shouted from as the music is too loud to hear very much over it. It's also so poorly lit inside that you squint to focus your gaze but still can't pinpoint where the voice is coming from. Then you spot a heavy upper arm reach up to catch your attention, it's waving. It's Trevor's and he's calling you over to the bar. You inhale some clammy air and approach him.

"What?" You shout to Trevor before he slides you a shot.

"Here."

"What's this for?" You ask.

"It's an apology for earlier, I got carried away." Trevor held his shot glass up to clink with yours. You picked yours up and reciprocated the gesture. You downed the amber liquid before Trevor, and slammed your glass down on the bar.

"Apology accepted." You croak from your throat tingling.

"Alright! I like a woman who can handle a drink." Trevor gulps down his glass and grunts. "Two more please barkeep!" The lady behind the bar pours another shot into both of your glasses. "As far as stuck up colleges go, which is pretty much all of them, why did you choose a shithole like LS of all the places?" Trevor asked then drank another shot. You both lean on the bar with your elbows and watch the pole dancer. Without taking your eyes of the woman on stage, you answered him.

"I didn't really have a choice, I was chosen at random. Tracey signed herself up to house foreign students and I wanted to live somewhere new for a while. I didn't know or care where I went." You replied honestly.

"Things are rough at home huh?"

"You could say that." You turn and down your second shot to try and numb any emotions that were manifesting. You request another shot, but Trevor lowers your hand. The bar maid waits for Trevor's confirmation before she decides to pour.

"Hey, slow down there missy. Michael won't be too happy if I take you back drunk as skunk now would he?"

"What do you care?" You yank your arm from Trevor's grasp. He's confused.

"I don't. Thought you might though."

"Well I don't. I _want_ to drink." You push your glass closer to the bar maid and she glances at Trevor. He waves his hand and she proceeds to pour you another shot. You toss it down your neck and place the glass back on the bar. The bar maid finishes pouring more whiskey in Trevor's shot glass and you watch him swallow it down his thick throat. You're studying his Cut Here tattoo. You admire how original it is. He catches you staring at him and places his glass back down on the bar. Trevor wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans in close. You can already feel the effects of the alcohol on your system.

"Alright sweetheart, I'll show you how to fuckin' party."

After a few more shots of vodka and whiskey whilst trying to keep up with Trevor, the two of you stumble out of the door of the strip club and Trevor hails a taxi. While you wait, you're curious as to why your jean pocket is vibrating. You feel around clumsily and slide your vibrating phone and squint at the screen. When your vision stayed still the bright glass read: "Tracey Calling". You're about to answer it before Trevor pulls you into a cab. The two of you fall into the backseat and Trevor slurs something to the driver and orders him to change the radio station. Your phone has stopped vibrating in your hand and you remember you're still holding it so you glance at the screen again. "10 Missed Calls from Tracey". You decide to worry about it later and slip it back into your jean pocket.

It doesn't take very long for the cabby to bring the car to a halt outside a nightclub. You ducked your head to look out the window your heavier-than-usual head was resting on, and your brain slowly registered the letters into words that spelled out "Bahamas Mamas". _This city really likes to use pink neon on their signs._ After the cabbie scrambles for the money Trevor carelessly throws at him, you both exit the cab and enter the night club. It's not much different to Vanilla Unicorn except the air is less warm and there aren't women stuck to poles on a stage. Mike Posner's Cooler Than Me is playing as you stagger to the bar. You clink glasses with Trevor again and make a sour face as the strong alcohol burns your throat.

"You're a-a-strange one." Trevor sways as his brain comes up with the words slowly.

"... What?" You reply trying your hardest to look Trevor in the eye and also keeping your legs from turning fully into jelly.

"You're a-like-a... kid... but you're not... you have an old head... on young shoulders." Trevor signals the bar tender for more alcohol.

"Did-did you just call my head old?" The conversation may as well have been nonsense at this point but Trevor was trying to compliment you somehow. He nearly spills his newly poured shot on you as he raises his hand in exclamation.

"Yeah! In a good way... your mind is mature y'know?" You've lost count how many shots you and Trevor have swallowed up to this point. "Amigo! Dos beers por favour!" Trevor shouts to the bar man. The bar man ignores Trevor. You glance over and discover why, the barman is trying to chat up an attractive woman. Trevor waits for a few seconds but then reaches his long arm over the bar and steals two bottles of beer for himself and you. You gasp quietly and cover your mouth and giggle. After a few tries of completely missing the bar, Trevor clips the bottle caps off at an angle on the side of the bar and hands you yours. You take a huge swig and thank him.

The two of you lean on the bar waiting for the other to suggest you move to the dance floor. You listen and begin to recognise songs that are playing in the club and the next one that you can hear makes you very excited. Yeah by Usher begins playing and you turn to Trevor open mouthed and smile. He smiles widely back at you. You're excitement rubs off on him but he has no idea why.

"I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG! C'MON!" You hold Trevor by the hand and he drags his toes as he's pulled to the dance floor.

When you reach a gap in the crowd you let go of his hot hand. You close your eyes and are completely and utterly in the moment dancing. You don't care if you look ridiculous you're swaying and moving to the music. Trevor can't stop staring at you. He blinks hard and raises his eyebrows after taking another glug of his beer to watch you in the dim, smoky light. His jaw is hanging slightly. As you move your body, your hair is illuminated every now and then from the strobe lights rotating and stretching around the room. Once you open your eyes and see Trevor trying his best to dance with his long flailing limbs. The sight just makes you smile.

As he's turning, you swing him around by one of his hard shoulders. Trevor looks down at you and moistens his throat with some beer. You eye up his lips and whisper in his ear to tease him.

"Follow me." Trevor hears you loud and clear and you find a quiet corner of the dance floor and push him up against the dark wall. He grunts with pleasure as he hits the wall with force. Trevor gives you a half smile and an evil stare that sends you wild. Your hands are slowly caressing his solid, muscular chest on top of his army green shirt. Your bodies are inches from each other as you drunkenly kiss his mouth. He's gentler than you expected until his tongue forced its way into your mouth. You're still kissing Trevor and feel him inhaling air in small, quick bursts as your hand hovers and touches the crotch of his jeans. The last thing you remember feeling is Trevor's grip strengthening on your behind as you stroke his hardening penis.

* * *

You're startled by an unknown, harsh buzzing sound that rudely awakens you. You're half dead when you pull open your eyes but all you can see is complete darkness. _Ugh. What is that noise?_ You groan at the muffled music you can hear and toss and turn to try and to go back to sleep but you misjudge the length of what you thought was your bed and roll onto a sticky floor. You squint and blink your eyes to moisten them before focusing on your surroundings. Even blinking was making your head throb. You rub your eyes and try to register where you were, but you don't recognise this room. You exhale with frustration and run your fingers through your hair to try and tame the bed hair. You begin to feel a strange chill and look down at yourself to investigate why, and finally realise you're only wearing your lacy knickers. You feel around for the blanket as you're vision is still slightly blury. Thankfully the sheet still held some of your warmth and you wrapped yourself in it like it was a towel.

You hunt down the source of the loud vibrations. It was your phone on a desk next to a computer monitor. It takes you some time to focus on the screen and you read: 10 Missed Calls from Tracey, 4 Texts from Tracey. You swipe to unlock your phone and read the following text messages:

"Y/N where are you?"

"Seriously, where did you go? Jimmy said he saw you from his window. You got in a car with Trevor and Franklin?"

"My mom and dad are worried. WHERE ARE YOU?"

"This isn't funny anymore Y/N."

You glance up from your phone and try to figure out where exactly you were. You look through the pile of papers next to the keyboard to find something, anything. You see a familiar business logo and name in a header of a printed letter. _Oh no._ Vanilla Unicorn. _I'm at the fucking strip club?! Where the fuck are my clothes?!_ But just as you turn to pinpoint their location the door to the room swings open and you just stand there frozen.

"Good morning!" Trevor is annoyingly loud and chipper. You watch him check his phone for the time. "Wow, or should I say afternoon." He puts his phone away and approaches you. You hold a hand up and stretched out your arm defensively to keep him away.

"Trevor, where are my clothes?" You say slowly and with a very serious tone. You weren't in the mood to be playful, not with this bad of a hangover.

"Oh. No 'thanks for letting me stay on your sofa Trevor' or 'thanks for giving me a blanket to cover my naked body Trevor'. I gave you the courtesy of partying with THE Trevor Philips and this is the thanks I get?" You weren't sure if Trevor was joking or was genuinely irritated.

"Just tell me where my clothes are Trevor." You've lost your patience. Trevor frowns his thick brow and exhales with his tongue poking the roof of his mouth. He wanted to see you squirm for a few more seconds before answering.

"Over there on that box of flyers." Trevor points lazily.

"Thanks." You rush over to the box by the back door of the office and see your clothes hanging on the side of the box as well as in messy clumps next to it. You bring the pile of clothing to the couch and were just about to remove your towel that was wrapped around you, before remembering Trevor was still present.

"Trev, do you mind?"

"Not at all cupcake. Not-at-all." Trevor says with a creepy chuckle. You stare him down so he realises you're serious and he rolls his dark coffee coloured eyes and faces his back to you. You throw your clothes on as quickly as you can and toss the blanket back onto the sofa. You slip your phone into your pocket and sit yourself on the sofa to tie your shoes.

"Ok. You can look now" Trevor turns and is about to give you another cheeky quip before you interrupt him. "By the way Trevor, can you tell me why I woke up practically naked in _your_ strip club please?" You cannot for the life of you recall a memory from beyond the night club you visited and you don't remember removing any item of clothing.

"You don't remember?" Trevor says with a serious look.

"No." You massaged your temples of your skull for some relief.

"Are you sure?" Trevor was dragging this on as long as he could. He leaned against the desk opposite the sofa you sat on. You had to look up at him.

"YES I'M SURE! Can you just tell me please?!"

"You stripped yourself darlin'. I had nothing to do with de-clothing you." Trevor raised his palms.

"I stripped... myself?... Why?"

"You wanted to strip." Trevor verified as he crossed his arms. He seemed to be keeping in a laugh to himself about something you had no idea about.

"I know. You just said that. I'm just trying to remember why-" Bits of last night came rushing back to you. When they did, you gasped in horror at what you eventually remember. You spoke whilst exhaling. "... NOOO"

"YEEEESSS!" Trevor was delighted at your embarrassment.

"Please tell me I didn't. PLEASE" You tried hiding your face.

"I'm sorry to say sugar, well; actually I'm not sorry, that you did in fact walk down the stripper stage wearing just those lacy panties."

"In front of people?" You squeaked from behind your hands. Trevor nodded sympathetically but then couldn't stop himself from exploding from laughter. You peak through the gaps in between your fingers and speak. "Are you sure?"

"You gave my girls a run for their money let me tell you. Look, I'll show you the security footage if you like." Trevor was revelling in tormenting you and may as well have skipped to the computer to bring up the footage of last night. You lowered your hands and stood next to Trevor as the two of you watched the show from last night. You saw yourself staggering and stumbling on stage and try to swing on the pole at the end of the runway, only to fall off disgracefully hit your head on the railing below you. You reach for the back of your skull and wince from the forgotten pain from the bump. "See! Naked. Naked. Naked. Naked." Trevor points at the monitor as he presses a key on the keyboard so the footage cuts to different angles.

"Wait, that can't be me" You point at the screen. Trevor looks at you unsure what conclusion you were about to come to. "I don't have a tattoo there- OW" You poke a sore area at the top of your left breast with the tips of your fingers. You're confused as to why you felt pain and look down your top and stare at your skin in horror. You lick your thumb and try to rub at your skin but it was permanent and you winced as you touched it. You're distracted enough to not notice Trevor trying to peek down your shirt also. You drop the material of your shirt and place your palm on your eyelids.

"I forgot about that." Trevor pointed at your breast and spoke. You watched his face light up as he reminisced about the night before. "You dragged us to a tattoo place before we came back here. Begged the guy to draw something, what was it?"

"It's a black scorpion." You reply with an annoyed shrug. You then glance at Trevor's hands resting on the keyboard. You notice he has a very similar scorpion tattoo on his right hand in between his thumb and index finger. "It's the same one on your hand!" You point at Trevor's hand and he looks down at it with a frown then back at you. You sigh and pull your t-shirt down to only reveal the scorpion tattoo. Trevor was only allowed to glance at it for a couple seconds before you position the material back over to cover the tattoo. It seemed to align with Trevor's on his hand as if he was cupping your breast. "I bet you put me up to this." You say through your teeth.

"Probably, but I can't remember sugar." Trevor replies with a cheerful tone. It makes your blood boil. He stands up straight, away from the computer screen and leads you to the back door of the office.

"Where are we going now?" You ask as you shield your eyes from the blinding sunlight. You follow Trevor to his red pickup truck parked around the front of the building. Trevor replies as he gets close to his car.

"De Santa residence. I said I'd get you home, and what am I if not a man of my word? Michael will be worried sick!" Trevor said as he sat in the driver's seat and closed the door. You study his choice of vehicle. You're curious as to why there's a one eyed teddy bear wearing a thong pinned to the front grill of the truck, but decide to go with why there's no roof to the car. You climb into the car with Trevor and point with your thumb to where the roof should be.

"What if it rains?"

"Then you'll get wet." Trevor said harshly. His bluntness made you laugh. Laughing made your head hurt. You pull your seatbelt down and lock it in place and Trevor puts his keys in the ignition. Soon the two of you were arguing over which radio station to listen to whilst Trevor drove erratically through traffic.

* * *

You recognise the familiar curved driveway of Tracey's house and before the car came to a hard stop Trevor punches the horn a few times to signal your arrival. You remove yourself from the truck and watch as Tracey races out the front door. She hangs up her phone and calls back into the house confirming it is you returning. She runs from the door to hug you. You're nearly pushed backward from the amount of force Tracey hit you with. Amanda emerges and then Michael looking as furious as one another. Tracey lets go of you and walks with you back to the house. Amanda stops Tracey from taking you inside. Trevor steps out and stands in front of his truck to observe.

"Just a minute Tracey," Amanda holds her arm out. Tracey doesn't argue. You watch Amanda turn to you. "Y/N where have you been?!"

"With Trevor." Amanda glances at Trevor and he smiles proudly. She gives him a disgusted look.

"I can see that." She turns back to you expecting more of an explanation. You don't give one so Amanda continues to speak. "Look Y/N I can't control what you do in your spare time. You're not a child and I'm not your mother, but the college did assign us as your guardians whilst you're studying. If you're going to live in our home you have to tell us when you'll be out all hours of the night. You can come and go as you please just give us a heads up next time and **answer your phone**."

"Yes Mrs De Santa. Sorry."

"What the fuck were you doing with Trevor anyway? Jimmy said he saw you two get in a car with Franklin." Michael piped up. He began speaking directly to you but soon turned to Trevor who answered for you.

"Well, that's none of your concern Mikey boy." Trevor snapped back.

"It is my concern when it involves her! We're her guardians T. For Christ sake, she looks like she's been taking meth or some shit." Michael strains his voice. Amanda and Tracey look at Trevor for a reply. You worry and look to Trevor in horror. Trevor shakes his head at you and you sigh with relief.

"She hasn't been taking meth, calm down sugar tits."

"Then what were you doing? She doesn't look well T." You were getting annoyed how much Michael was talking to others about you in front of you, but not actually talking directly to you. You're patience was short due to your hangover.

"HEY. I can speak for myself!" You shout. Michael is surprised and looks at you waiting for your next word. "It doesn't matter where I've been or what I did. It's done. I don't have to answer to you or Mrs De Santa, sorry, Amanda. I'm sorry I didn't answer my calls, that was stupid and reckless and it won't happen again. I would like to keep living here if you'll have me; your home and family are lovely but I don't need to be checked up on."

"Clearly!" Michael replies with sarcasm. "I mean, you look fine! You can barely stand."

"I drank alcohol, that's all I did. I've seen plenty of other adults drink alcohol." You shot back.

"Well that's not all you did..." Trevor mumbles. Thankfully only you heard it. Michael doesn't know what else to say. Amanda waits for anyone else to add anything before she places her hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N what Michael's trying to say is that we were worried. We would be the ones in the shit with the college if we lost you. From now on please tell me if you decide you need to get away. Ok?" Amanda tries to defuse the situation and rubs the side of your arm then smiles at you.

"I will." You smile back.

"Let me put mine and Michael's numbers in your phone so if you can't reach me you can reach Michael." You pass your phone to Amanda and she puts the numbers into your contacts and hands your phone back to you.

"You have my number right?" Tracey finally feels it's safe to speak.

"Yes. You gave it to me yesterday in class." You smile at her.

"Oh yeah! Ok I'm going inside. Nice to see you again Uncle Trevor!" Tracey waves goodbye to Trevor and disappears inside with Amanda.

"You too Tracey." Trevor says with a genuine smile. Amanda rudely tries to ignore Trevor as she makes her way inside but he's aware of this and waves her goodbye. "BYE BYE AMANDA!" Trevor begins walking back to the driver's seat and opens the door.

"Thanks Trevor." You say as he gets into his truck.

"My pleasure Y/N." Trevor nods and starts his car. He stretches his chunky arm over the headrest of the passenger seat, and his neck over his shoulder to reverse his car out of Michael's drive and leaves. Once Trevor is out of sight, you turn back to face Michael.

"How are you not completely and utterly shit scared of him?" Michael asks bluntly.

"I dunno." You shrug whilst looking at your feet. You're giddy from spending time with Trevor but also from being so tired. You look into Michael's baby blue eyes. "How are _you_ not shit scared of him?"

"I am." Michael replies as he lets you enter his home first. He shakes his head as he follows you in. The front door swings back and closes.


	5. Chapter 5: Innocent Prying

You pull yourself up the stairs of the De Santa house with your hand on the banister and retreat to the bed they kindly provided you. You push the decorative pillows off so they gently fall onto the floor on the other side of the large double bed and pull the soft but heavy sheets away. You slide your tired legs out your jeans and crawl your body underneath the covers. Your head sinks into the squashiest pillows you've ever felt and you drift off to a deep sleep almost immediately.

You're in the De Santa's bubbling hot tub. The steam is clearing and you notice Michael is sitting across from you. Both his elbows are resting up on the side of the hot tub. His chest is bare. He's wearing lilac tinted aviator sunglasses. The beaming sunlight bounces off them and the ripples of the water. You're very confused and look around for an explanation and catch the sight of yourself; you're wearing a bikini and suddenly feel very exposed. You look back up at Michael. He's removed his sunglasses and the sunlight is illuminating his sky blue eyes. They're almost hypnotising you. You watch Michael take a long drag from his thick cigar that was resting in a glass ash tray not far from his reach. He blows out and upward. You try to speak but you can't find your words so you just watch the smoke fade away.

You blink and as your eyes are closed you can still distinguish the smell of the cigar, but this time it's in your mouth. You open your eyes and pull away to see Michael's face beneath you. You watch him slowly open his glistening eyes. He wets his lips with his tongue still trying to taste your kiss.

"You're beautiful baby." Michael whispers. You're heart is racing as you hear the words. Your thighs are separated and your knees and calves lay either side of Michael on the seat of the hot tub. You don't have time to react as Michael leaves gentle kisses in your cleavage. You breathe a moan as his lips make their way to your neck and his hands open on your lower back. You feel yourself grinding on Michael's swimming trunks submerged in the water. His penis is hardening from your movement. His hands feel their way around to the back of your bikini top.

The soaked material of your bikini top gently falls onto the water. Michael's large hand grabs one of your breasts making you gasp with pleasure and buries his face into your cleavage. He stands still kissing your chest and your bare legs instinctively wrap around his waist. He places you to sit on the hot tub seat in front of him. You look up at him with hot, pursed lips and a raised brow waiting for his words. Michael stares at you expressionless with his large eyes and slightly breathless.

Your vision blurs and now you're facing the glass dining room doors of the De Santa house. You're kneeling on the seat in the hot tub with your forearms propping yourself up on the slab tiles of the patio. You scour beyond the dining table and hope that no one else is home. The bubbles give you a nice sensation in between your legs as you kneel at this angle.

Michael gently pulls each of the bows that tied the strings of the bottoms of your bikini. Your head snaps back at his unexpected touch. You watch him slide his thick fingers in the middle of your cheeks and grips his hand into a fist to rip the material from your skin. You feel the bottoms float from under you. Your breathing quickens as you're presenting yourself entirely to Michael.

You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. Michael makes a small grunt as he slides his solid, sensitive shaft out from his trunks and guides it toward your opening. You look back through the glass doors to check again for any sign of Michael's family. He's teasing you as you feel him in between your legs. You exhale a whine as he pushes himself harshly inside you.

Michael grips at the flesh above your buttocks forcefully as he's thrusting. You feel the water sloshing as your breasts are slapping the side of the hot tub. Your eyes roll back as you hear Michael grunting as he jerks himself in and out of you. You can't help but let out moans but bite down on your fist to try and muffle them. Your other hand has found its way down there too and gently massages your sweet spot.

He's quickening and you feel yourself getting wetter and it's not due to the water that surrounds you. Michael's groin pounds you from behind rougher and deeper, you hear him straining from the pleasure. His noises send a shiver down your arched spine. His hands slide up and rest themselves on your chest and you roll your head and shift your body back into him.

You let out high, panted moans and clench your jaw as you take in air. You're practically sitting on Michael in the water as your lids shield your eyes from the scorching, midday sunshine. He's pushing himself up into you hard, over and over. Your back and his chest are rubbing against one another as you feel the heat warming your face. You feel his stubble from his open jaw scratch your face. You feel his short, heavy breaths on your skin. You're in complete ecstasy.

* * *

You peel your eyelids open to a dampened sound at the bottom of the bed. You lift the front of your face buried in the pillow and try to focus your vision. Darkness is all you see out of the bedroom window. You pull the chain of the bedside table lamp and squint at the clothing draped over the raised wood bed frame at the bottom of the bed. You pull yourself up and search the pockets. It's your phone. You have an unread text message from Tracey. It reads:

"I'm at class. Guess you're not coming. Will probs be about 1 hour. Mom's gone shopping & Jim rode with her into the city. You might be alone when you wake up or my dad might be home. Anyway see you later! *face blowing a kiss emoji*"

For the moment you've forgotten about the dream and decide to unpack your suitcase. You're able to hang a lot of items in the large, dark coloured wardrobe and then place your underwear in the wide, top drawer of the chest of drawers. You notice your swimsuit mixed in with the clothes and stare at it. Flashes of your dream are coming back to you and now you wish you hadn't looked. After your brain wakes up enough, you connect the images you just woke up from experiencing, and the possibility of definitely crossing paths with Michael in his own home makes your cheeks redden.

To try and distract yourself you begin to arrange your beauty items on the top of the chest of drawers and glance at yourself in the huge mirror that hung on the wall. You laugh at your crazy bed hair and run your brush through it to flatten it somewhat. It does the job. You throw on your comfy sweats and slip your phone into the large pocket of your hoodie.

You brace yourself before exiting your bedroom and try to block out the scenes from your dream that keep replaying in your mind's eye. You creep down the stairs and poke your head around to scan the living room. _Damn._ You spot Michael sitting on the sofa eating chips. He senses your presence and turns, he leaves the bowl and wipes his mouth with his hand and then his hands on his trousers, before approaching you. He's wearing a casual polo shirt jeans and sneakers.

"Oh good! You're up!" Michael looks up at you. You can't run now so you turn and come back down the stairs and nod politely. "You hungry? I'm not much of a cook so you wanna order take-out? My treat." You look everywhere else but into Michael's bluer than blue eyes. Even thinking about looking in his eyes is reminding you of the images from your dream. Michael notices your body language. "...You ok?"

"Yeah I'm fine." You reply shortly whilst rubbing your arm, and then you scratch the back of your head and think of an excuse. "I-uh- I'm not that hungry..." You still don't look him in the eye.

"You've been catching up with your beauty sleep for a good... five hours Y/N." Try as you might but you feel the urge to turn and make eye contact with Michael when he says your name. He raises his brow. "You must be hungry. I doubt Trevor fed you anything... edible."

"No, I didn't eat anything with Trevor."

"Then we'll get some good, wholesome, calorific take-out down you. It'll make you feel better." It's nice to experience Michael in a good mood. He walks away to the kitchen to find the take-out menus. You follow him slowly and watch him route through the drawers. "It'll bring some colour back into your face y'know." You assume you look paler than usual.

When Michael finally finds the menu he sprawls it out on the kitchen counter and invites you to choose your meal. You read the list of meals and feel nauseous from the thought but your stomach growls for any sort of sustenance.

"Just order me whatever you're having." You say rubbing your forehead.

"You sure?" Michael looks up at you whilst dialling the take-out number into his phone.

"Yep." You're still wary about making too much eye contact with Michael, like he's going to tell what you're thinking. You're thinking about that dream.

"Ok. I'll order it, go watch something on tv. I won't be long." Michael holds his phone up to his ear and you hear the call being connected as you enter the living room. You sit next to where Michael was sat and lift your legs up to cross them beneath you. You're out of sight of the dining room doors but you're still reminded that they're there and beyond that is the hot tub.

You thumb the remote and try to find something decent to watch. You sigh. _Nothing worth watching._ You pull your phone out and decide to reply to Tracey:

"No. Not coming to class. Not feeling so great. Just woke up. Your dad is home, we're having take-out.* smiling face with sunglasses emoji* See you later."

You press send and Michael appears in the living room.

"Trevor's not texting you is he? Trying to arrange another crazy night on the town?"

You laugh and shake your head. "No, I was replying to Tracey. She's in class; she says she'll be about an hour, just in case I was wondering where she's gone."

"Oh." Michael sits a comfortable distance away from you on the long white sofa. The two of you sit in an awkward silence. You slide Michael the remote as you've found nothing you want to watch. You don't know Michael all that well and are unsure what to talk about; he feels the same as he flicks aimlessly through the channels.

"How long did they say the take-out will be?" You hate small talk but it's all you have at this moment.

"About thirty to thirty five minutes, not including traffic." Michael replies then nods. He's still flicking through channels. You nod as a reply and decide to study the interior of the living room again. Anything to take your mind off how painful this interaction is. You notice their whole house is rather expensive looking and you begin to wonder what Michael or Amanda do to be able to afford a home like this.

"So Mr De Santa-" You're cut off by a raised hand from Michael.

"-Michael." He turns to face you as you speak. He's intrigued by your curiosity and lowers his hand holding the tv remote and rests it on the couch.

"Sorry, _Michael_. So what do you and M-Amanda do? Your home is beautiful."

"I... uh... make movies." Michael says unconvincingly.

"Oh cool. Any I've heard of?" You're genuinely interested and thankful you've found a subject that can carry a conversation.

"I happen to be the executive-producer of a little movie called Meltdown." Michael is wearing a smug look on his face and watches your reaction from the corner of his eye.

"Oh I think I've heard of that film! I've never seen it but I've heard a lot of people say they either love it or hate it."

"Yeah it had mixed reviews, but it did well." Michael shrugged trying to hide his large amount of pride.

"Oh good! So you're like a Vinewood bigshot producer then, that's how you can afford this place?"

"Something like that..." Michael's face drops and he loses his eye contact with you. Another question springs to your mind.

"How did you and Trevor end up being friends then? The two of you seem so different and I can't see him being in the movie business, so you can't've met there."

"Me and Trevor got complicated fucking history." You frown your brow at Michael's sudden change in mood and inability to elaborate. You were enjoying the conversation so decide to pry.

"So he's like an old friend or something?"

"We used to... work together." Michael's hand is back on the remote, searching for a program to watch. You haven't picked up on his mild frustration from your innocent questioning.

"What! So Trevor did used to do movies? I can't see him being controlled like that" You had a surprised smile on your face. You never entertained the idea of Trevor being an actor or having anything to do with the movie business.

"No. Trevor's never had anything to do with movies. It was my old job, before this."

"What was that?" You're beginning to annoy Michael with question after question. You're not aware of this and honestly just want to get to know him better.

"WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?!" Michael snapped. You're hurt and just stare into his eyes. You don't say a word. He didn't mean to raise his voice. He can't quite control his temper and you asked too many questions.

"Sorry" You say with some attitude. "I was just making conversation. I didn't want to just sit here in complete silence."

"You don't need to know anything else." Michael hissed. He settles on a program and places the remote on the sofa next to him.

"Ok. I was just interested, that's all. I won't bother next time. Jesus!" You sigh like a stroppy teenager. The silence hangs in the air again. Michael feels guilty but is too stubborn to admit it and apologise just yet. You glare at the screen of your phone to avoid talking to Michael. You scroll through your social media sites to try and calm yourself down a bit.

Just then, your phone vibrates. It's a text message from an unknown number. You open it and quickly learn the message is from Franklin:

"'Ey Y/N. L says you a real homie for helpin us with them Ballas.  
We cool. T got you home to M's house ok? – Frank"

You send a reply to Franklin:

"Yeah, I'm fine back at Michael's house. What so Lamar can't tell me himself? Tell him to say hello to Chop for me! It might be easier to just give him my number if he wants to talk. Btw how did you get my number?"

"T gave me it. Thought you knew."

You read the text message from Franklin and try to remember giving your phone number to Trevor. You don't. You assume Trevor took your phone number without asking or you might have given it to him in the chunk of time your memory struggles recalling.

After adding Franklin as a contact in your phone, you search for a sign of Trevor on your smart phone. Sure enough you spot a contact listed as 'Sexy Uncle Trevor'. You shake your head with amusement and change the contact name to just 'Trevor'.

"You ask a lot of questions." Michael finally plucked up the courage to break the silence. You'd forgotten he was still sitting next to you. You acted uninterested and continued looking at your phone. You waited a few minutes before replying. "... Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"Sorry for shouting. You ask a lot of questions." Michael exhaled a small uncomfortable laugh. He was trying to lighten the atmosphere but you weren't biting. You haven't looked up from your phone.

"Yeah, that usually happens when you try to get to know someone better. You want to learn stuff about them."

"I know. Hey, look I'm sorry." Michael touched your knee so you'd look up from your phone and you did. You saw the sincerity in his baby blue eyes. You do a small sigh as you admire the colour of Michael's eyes then snap yourself out of it.

"It's fine." You say with a convincing smile. Michael gives you one back and nods then removes his hand from your knee. He gets up and walks into the kitchen.

"I'm having a drink. You want one?" He shouts to you.

"What kind of drink?" You shout a reply back.

"A bourbon."

"Alright, yeah thanks." You hear opening of cabinet doors and clinking of glasses, and then soon enough Michael is returning to the living room.

Michael's carrying two short glass cups in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in another. He sits, unscrews the lid of the bottle and pours the yellowish-brown liquid into the glass he's handed to you, and then does the same for himself. He reapplies the lid and places the bottle on the floor by his feet then motions a clinking of glasses without touching your glass. He downs his glass in one go. He exhales enjoying the taste.

Your stomach isn't as brave as Michael's and you decide to take small mouthfuls instead. The whiskey tastes much better than the one Trevor had at his strip club. From what little you can remember anyway. You assume the one Michael buys is high end, expensive stuff.

"Thanks. It's nice." You set the glass down on a coaster on a small table next to the sofa.

"You a huge bourbon drinker?" Michael is pouring himself another drink.

"Not really. I've had it once before." You're referring to the night you got wasted with Trevor.

"Do you remember what it was called?" Michael was trying to start up another conversation.

"Nope." You answered honestly.

"Alright then." Michael laughed. You watched him hunch himself over whilst sitting. He's leaning his elbows on his thighs and staring at the floor of the living room. You hear him rub at his stubble with the back of his hand that held his glass. "Look, Y/N. You seem like a level headed kid," You waited for Michael to continue but he holds back.

"... what?" You say impatiently.

"I may as well tell you because you'll probably end up hearing it from Trevor anyway. And trust me his version will be all kinds of crazy."

"What are you talking about?"

"You want to know what I used to do for a job..." Michael pours another glass of bourbon. "I robbed banks." It disappears down his throat.

"You and Trevor were bank robbers?" You ask doubtingly. You had to repeat Michael's words in case you heard it wrong. You didn't believe him.

"Yeah I'm a great thief." He nods still not looking at you.

"You _are_ a great thief? I thought you said this was your old job?"

"It was-look it doesn't matter." Michael finally looks you in the face. "That's how I was able to get this fancy fucking house in Rockford Hills. Y/N I'm trailer trash not some bigshot Vinewood producer. I'm full of shit." After hearing Michael's words you let them sink in and you tried your best to process this new information.

"Right, so you and Trevor stole to make a living?"

"Yeah pretty much."

"How did you end up here then and Trevor end up living in a strip club?" You were so confused and tried your best to make sense of it all.

"He doesn't live there. At least not all the time, he's got some shitty trailer in Blaine County. It's a few hours north of the city. It's quite the redneck country."

"Oh, ok."

"So now you know." Michael sits back into the couch and sighs at ease for sharing his past and getting it off his chest.

"Yeah" You go over the new information in your head. Michael slipped up earlier and said he _is_ a great thief. _Is_. Your mind wonders and you're reminded about something from your local tv news channel back home not too long ago; you vaguely recall something about a robbery involving the Los Santos Union Depository. You laugh to yourself imagining if they were responsible. You dwelled longer on the idea before changing your mind. _No... they can't be involved... can they?_ That story was huge. Infamous. Every news organisation was covering that story. Every piece of media had their own speculations and suspicions but the identity of the thieves never surfaced.

After digesting this new information Michael gave to you, you build up enough courage to ask if he or Trevor had anything to do with the LS Union Depository job that was on the news not long back. Just as you're about to utter a word from your lips the front doorbell rings instead.

"That must be the take-out." Michael announced. He stood and walked to the hallway. You notice his heavy shoulders again.


	6. Chapter 6: Jumping to Conclusions

Michael carries in the bag of take-out food and places it on the sofa. After you've eaten what you can without your stomach exploding, you thank Michael for the meal. He nods and continues eating but shortly gives up too. You help him clean up the waste and put leftovers away in the kitchen.

"Michael?" You begin. You're leaning with your back on the island counter of the kitchen while Michael is stuffing the food the two of you were unable to eat into the fridge. He's not very far in front of you when he turns and closes the door.

"Yeah?"

"You and Trevor…"

"Me and Trevor what?" Michael asked shortly.

"You didn't have anything to do with that thing with the LS Union Depository did you? It was all over the news, even where I was." You watched the side of Michael's mouth curl up slightly when he turned away to put more food away in the fridge.

"Why? Do you think we had anything to do with that?"

"Just answer the question." You watch Michael emerge from the fridge for the second time. He inhales a breath and is about to give you a straight answer but you're both startled by someone entering the front door.

"Dad! Tracey said you got take-out!" It was Jimmy. He's shouting but soon quiets down when he sees you standing in the kitchen. "Oh, hey Y/N."

"Hey Jim." You smile.

"I just put it away Jim." Michael signalled with his thumb to the fridge behind him. Michael shifted to one side as Jimmy opened the fridge and took out a container then a fork from the cutlery drawer. Jimmy walked away and you saw the back of his hand do a wave to the two of you, before scurrying upstairs to his room to eat. Both you and Michael tilt your heads around to view the front door as you hear hushed cursing and fumbling then dropping of bags.

"Well don't just stand there." Amanda was struggling carrying her shopping bags in the front door and dropped a few on her way through. You and Michael are quickly at her side lending a hand.

"Where do you want them?" You carry what you can. Michael has disappeared, already knowing the destination of Amanda's shopping. You wanted to ask instead of mindlessly following Michael like a lost puppy.

"I was talking to Michael but thanks for your help Y/N." Amanda smiles at you. You feel an overwhelming sense of guilt as you recall your dream you awoke from earlier whilst you make eye contact with Amanda. "The bedroom if you don't mind, thanks Y/N." Amanda replies as she shuts the door with her foot behind her.

You make your way up the stairs and into Michael and Amanda's bedroom. You're stood in their bedroom, in Michael's bedroom. The style was similar to the guest bedroom and living room so you assume Amanda probably designed this to her liking too. There were more pictures of family and another strange portrait like the one of Tracey and Jimmy in the living room, but the one in this room was of Amanda. It hung above a cream two-seater couch and gave off a sort of intimidating vibe.

You glanced at the photo frames on the slim table under the large wall mounted television. You studied the faces in the snapshot of time: _they look so… normal._ You dropped the bags and stood at the end of the large bed to take in the rest of the room. The stained glass doors to the balcony and candle style wall lights gave the room a sophisticated elegant touch.

Michael emerged from the walk-in wardrobe off to your left and sighed as he grew to learn the bags he carried up weren't even half of what Amanda had in total.

"Jesus 'Mand. How much clothes do you need?"

"A woman can never have too many outfits, right Y/N" Amanda nudged you playfully as she picked up the rest of the expensive looking shopping bags and brought them into the walk-in wardrobe. You chuckled politely in agreement. Michael watched you as you laughed falsely then began to exit the bedroom. When he was right beside you, you held your hand out on his chest to stop him walking any further. Michael gave a momentary look at your hand resting on his heart and shifted his view to your eyes when you spoke.

"You still haven't answered my question." You say playfully with a raised brow. Michael exhaled slowly.

"I can't-" Michael began. The two of you locked eyes and he opened his mouth to continue his reasoning but he couldn't find the right words. He wants to tell you but those involved felt it was safer if the events were never spoken of again, to avoid the risk of getting caught.

You feel your heart begin to race as more milliseconds of time were wasted from the two of you staring at each other. You definitely felt something. Michael did too but you couldn't have known. You felt his heart beat quickening but the brief moment is quickly over as the two of you swung around toward the presence by the entrance of the walk-in wardrobe.

"What do you think? The red one or the black one?" Amanda appeared gleefully and had two different pairs of shoes on her feet; one black heel and one red heel. She pointed her toes of each foot when she announced each colour and then looked up at you with your hand on Michael's chest.

You saw her smile drop causing you to remove your hand as quickly as you could. Michael watched you step away from him and hang your hands behind your back. You made a short respectful smile toward Amanda. She just continued to frown at you and then turned to Michael and made a facial expression as if to say: _explain yourself **quickly**. _ Michael shifted his confused brow and his focus went from Amanda then to you then to Amanda again. It didn't take him long to figure out what was wrong.

"Woah, no 'Mand-" Michael pleaded with his palms on display as he understood what conclusion his wife was jumping to. Amanda darted for the walk-in wardrobe and Michael tried jogging after her but he wasn't quick enough. She slammed the door of the on suite bathroom in his face and locked it. The noise from the door closing with such forceful hatred made you jump and squeeze your eyes closed. You hear Michael pound his fist on the door; straining his voice shouting her name and pleading with Amanda through the door.

"JUST PISS OFF MICHAEL!" You could hear Amanda scream from inside the room. Her voice was shaky. You felt terrible as you opened your eyes. You want to say something to defend Michael but you worry it may look like you're trying to cover for him. You watch Michael slowly walk back into the bedroom. He wipes his mouth to stop himself from yelling and blaming you. He stretches his neck and his tight shoulders are tense again. He keeps his vision on the floor.

"… should I say … something?" You suggest.

"NO-just… go. Please." You feel the blame radiating from Michael with his prickly response as he takes a seat on his bed. You do as you're told and leave. As you're leaving through the bedroom door you almost walk into Tracey as she's making her way from the stairs to her bedroom.

"Woah, Y/N look out." Tracey said avoiding you.

"Sorry." You look up at her and she steadies herself to avoid dropping her textbooks.

"What were you doing in my mom and dad's room?"

"I was helping your mom with her bags." It wasn't the full truth but it wasn't a lie either.

"Oh. Ok. How are you feeling? Not so hung over anymore?" You walk with Tracey into her bedroom and she dumps her books onto her desk. She tells you to sit on her bed and she sits cross legged on the opposite side.

"No, I feel better now. I ate something without wanting to throw it straight back up so that's good I suppose." You took a seat on the end of her bed.

"Ew. Oh my God spill already!" Tracey was so energetic; you wondered where she got it from.

"Spill what?"

"What you got up to when you left with Franklin and Trevor! You came back here super fucked up."

"Oh that? It was nothing. I just went with them to a bar and drank too much. They were showing me around LS."

"It's so unfair. I should've been the one to have had a wild night with Franklin. My dad is such an asshole!" Tracey was quick to assume you spent your night partying with Franklin when in fact it was Trevor. She initiated the conversation with you but was soon rudely scrolling and texting on her phone. You watched her unimpressed.

"I'm sure he had his reasons…"

"He doesn't trust me, like why? I can date whoever I want y'know?" She hasn't looked up from her phone. You debate whether to just back away. _Will she even notice I'm gone?_

"Yeah. He's probably just protecting you."

"From Franklin? He's a puppy dog, he wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Hmm." You quickly realise Tracey doesn't know Franklin as well as she thinks she does. "Have you been dating long?"

"No! We matched on a dating app on my phone. Got talking for a couple days and arranged to go out."

"Oh, so quickly?"

"Yeah. We don't have long here so might as well make the most of it. Seize the day!" Tracey has a point but it's best if she doesn't know _all_ the details from that night.

You sit in silence while Tracey ignores you. You feel her intentions were selfish and she only wanted you to sit with her to keep her company. After a few minutes of dead air you decide to leave. You stand and Tracey doesn't look up from her phone.

"I need to clear my head. I'm gonna go for a walk." You turn to leave but Tracey calls to you.

"It's like nine thirty. How long will you be?" Tracey hands you her key to the front door. You thank her and take it from her.

"I don't know. I'll have my phone on me. I'll be safe."

"Just don't ignore my calls this time." Tracey ordered. You understand her words came from a place of care and worry even if they seemed demanding.

"I won't." You promise as you leave and enter your bedroom. You slip yourself back into some jeans and combat boots and leave the house without a word to anyone else. You didn't want to upset Michael or Amanda any further.

* * *

Try as you might, you can't help think: _What am I doing here?_ You inhale the cool night air walking on the sidewalks of Rockford Hills. You pull your hood up and feel around to double check for your phone and the key to the De Santa residence are still in your front pockets. _Yes, yes, Good._

You need time to reflect and sort your thoughts. You switch them off for a small while as you admire the area at night. You peer through the fence of the golf course as you walk. The empty course has an air of eeriness about it at night. The roads are lined with expensive cars with their main purpose of showing off to others. The booming bass can be felt in your chest from the expensive speakers inside the cars as they roll by. Giggles, music and splashes from heated pool parties are heard faintly from the direction a huge mansion property. You're wondering aimlessly until you can see the flashing lights of the Ferris wheel and rollercoaster on Del Perro Pier. You decide to head to the beach and listen to the soothing ocean waves.

When you set foot on the sand you collect some dry driftwood and light a fire with your lighter. You sit yourself off to the side of the fire and listen to it crackle every so often. The horizon of the sea tries to empty your mind but you're pulled out of the trance as your pocket begins to vibrate. You reach around and identify the source; your smart phone. You have one message from Trevor. You swipe and tap your screen whilst wearing a confused frown. Before opening the message you give the pretty much empty beach a good look around to see if he's visible close by. Nope. You unlock the screen and read the message.

"You ok kiddo?"

You look around again thinking Trevor had to be nearby or maybe he was in fact a mind reader. You couldn't see him anywhere. Your phone vibrates again. You peer down at the glow from your screen and read the new message.

"I'm on the Pier. I can see you sitting alone on the beach."

"Are you stalking me?" You reply jokingly and wait for a reply from Trevor.

"Maybe" His reply makes you smile. After a few minutes of waiting you hear the chug of an unfamiliar engine before it's cut off. You look over your shoulder and see an off-road Sanchez motorbike parked near the sand. You can hear the engine slowly clicking as it cools down. You can make out a figure with long legs dismounting the bike then strutting over the sand. You watch large work boots make imprints in the shallow sand. It's Trevor. You glance up at him as he comes to a stop next to you. He's wearing dirty grey sweatpants and a denim jacket with a sheepskin collar over a cheap button up shirt. You watch him staring over the ocean.

"What'cha starin' at?" Trevor asks with a focused stare. Your vision returns to the horizon of the sea.

"Nothing. Just staring." You sigh.

"Needed some down time away from the De Santa house huh?" You notice Trevor's Canadian accent when he says some of his o's. He takes a seat next to you then turns to face you for a reply. The orange flickering glow from the fire lights up your face.

"… Something like that."

"What's he done?" Trevor says in a blunt, disappointed tone.

"Who?" You turn to look at Trevor.

"Michael."

"Nothing. It was me, I always seem to fuck things up one way or another."

"Okay… so what did _you_ do then?"

"Amanda got the idea that me and Michael had something between us, which we don't."

"And **how** did she come to that conclusion?" Trevor's jealousy was beginning to surface.

"Michael and I got talking. He told me all about how you two became friends and that you two had to rob banks back in the day-"

"-Yeah, then Michael turned into a huge turd and faked his own death to his best buddy and fucked off with the money." Trevor listed past events thinking you were aware of them already. You stopped and turned having realised this was new information.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh ho! So Mikey left out the best details that paints him like the sack of shit that he is? Of course he fucking did." Trevor shook his head with frustration.

"All he told me was that you and him used to rob banks when you were younger that's how he could afford a place in Rockford Hills and you decided to live in Blaine County."

"Wrong! Well, sort of. MICHAEL was able to afford a fancy fucking mansion because he double crossed his running buddies and made a deal with the feds. He's been hiding like a COWARD ever since."

"Why did he do that?"

"Bastard said it was for his young family" Trevor said the word family in a high pitched disgusted tone. You waited for Trevor to continue.

"So Tracey and Jimmy were really young at the time?"

"Yep, last time I saw them before this place got it's claws into them and changed them, little Tracey's thirteenth birthday was coming up, and Jimmy was about ten or eleven." You caught Trevor reminiscing before he quickly changed the subject. "ANYWAY where did Amanda get her CRAZY idea thinking you and Michael were bangin'?" You could have sworn he was speaking through his teeth that were clenched together for that last part. Trevor didn't like hearing the possibility of you and Michael or anyone else for that matter.

"I stopped Michael with my hand on his chest from walking by me because he wouldn't answer my question."

"And what question was that?" Trevor's rage was building.

"I wanted him to tell me if he had anything to do with the LS Union Depository job that was all over the news not long back."

"That's it? I can answer that question for you cupcake. Yes. It was us. Me, Frank and him… and Lester but he doesn't count 'cos he didn't do any of the grunt work."

"Wait who the fuck is Lester? And I thought Michael only knew Franklin 'cos he pissed he was dating Tracey?"

"Jesus Y/N, he didn't even tell you the half of it-Lester is our intel cyber guy. Me, him and Michael go way back, when Michael used to be Michael Townley, back in North Yankton. Franklin and Michael got this weird father-son-I-never-had bullshit going on ever since they did the jewellery store heist somewhere in Rockford Hills. Lazy son of a bitch picked a place that wasn't too far away from his own fucking home! Anyway we're all gold rich now. That slippery snake left out all the juicy details!"

"Wait, I have so many questions. But did you say Michael faked his death?"

"AND slipped away with the takings from the job that he planned to go wrong with the feds."

"Woah… what a dick." You say under your breath. You weren't meaning for Trevor to hear you, you were finally seeing Michael for what he is or used to be.

"Yes!" Trevor shouted with excitement then settled down again. "… Michael is a huge dick. Doesn't have a huge dick though, trust me I've seen it." Trevor looks to you as you shake your head and laugh. Trevor is delighted he's the one who cheered you up and smiles warmly at you. "… I want to show you something." Trevor bounces up to stand. He's walks his hips to his bike and doesn't look back. He knows you'll follow him.

"What?" You ask as you dust sand off your bottom and back of your legs. Trevor turns to face you again when he gets to his Sanchez.

"Now if I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise now would it Y/N?" Trevor stretches his leg over the bike and turns the key in the ignition. You watch his eyes smile with his wicked mouth as he revs the engine from the handle bar. You hear your conscious again butting in on your impulsive decision making and ignore it as you mount the seat behind Trevor. You felt awkward and didn't know where to put your hands. You're about to ask where you should hold on before Trevor accelerates the motorbike causing you to frantically wrap your arms around his waist.

Trevor weaves in and out of traffic and once the both of you emerge from Little Seoul you feel comfortable enough to interlock your fingers on Trevor's stomach at a red light. You can't see his face but Trevor glances down at your hands adjusting. His mouth makes a cocky smile on one corner of his lips when he looks back up to see the light change to green.


	7. Chapter 7: Red Skin

You watch curiously as Trevor pulls into what looks like an empty parking lot near the Vespucci Canals. You spot a dormant helicopter at the far end that was difficult to see in the darkness from its black paint job. On closer inspection when Trevor parks close to the chopper you're able to read the red spray paint on the side. It says "T.P Industries" In bold red capital letters, also there's a small red patch with white writing that reads "Fuck da feds". Classy. You release your warm hold of Trevor's stomach when the engine dies and slide off the bike to walk slowly towards the helicopter.

Trevor struts by you and swings the chopper pilot door open and sits himself inside. He looks out at you and waves for you to join him. You're hesitant; having never been in a helicopter before. You just frown at him with wide eyes. Trevor's broad shoulders elevate with his sigh. He steps out of the chopper and advances to where you're stood.

"What's the problem?" Trevor says with some frustration as he rubs his chin.

"I'm supposed to get in that?" You point at the helicopter to the side of Trevor. Trevor looks to the chopper and then back to you.

"Yeah, unless you plan on walking. It's faster in the air, c'mon" Trevor begins walking back to the chopper with you before you stop him.

"Where are we going exactly?"

"Sandy Shores."

"Which is... where?"

"North." You raise your brow for more of an explanation. "Blaine County." Trevor exhales. "Los Santos isn't even the half of it Y/N. What kind of tour guide would I be if I didn't let you experience the rest, no no the BEST part of San Andreas?"

"Ok, and you can fly a helicopter?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"YES! I spent enough time in the air force, the least they could do is teach me how to pilot a fucking chopper!"

"Alright! Fine." Trevor escorts you to the co-pilot side of the helicopter and pulls the door open for you to climb in. Once you're seated he shuts the door and makes his way around to the pilot seat. You've nervously pulled on the safety harness to try and secure yourself in but can't get the straps to click together correctly. Trevor climbs himself in then sits and closes his door. He watches you fail your attempts with the harness. Once you give up he reaches over and comes in close to fully see what he was doing. You can feel your heart in your throat as his hands are very close to your crotch. He takes very little time fastening you in before returning to his seat.

Trevor doesn't bother with his own harness and instead hands you a headset to wear. You place it on your head and position it over your ears. Simple. Once the headset is sitting comfortably on your ears you turn and smile at Trevor with accomplishment. Trevor rolls his eyes and pulls the small microphone up that's attached to your headset so it's near your mouth and then he slips his headset on.

You watch mystified as Trevor flips a number of switches on the dashboard in front of him and some above him. You study his focused face. He must've done this a million times, but how can he remember all those buttons? You hear the whirr of rotor blades above you as the chopper wakes up. Trevor grasps at the cyclic in between his outer thigh and yours. You peer out of your door and watch the ground beneath you get further and further away as the chopper ascends. Your heart beat quickens as you realise how high in the air you are.

"You're gonna pass out if you don't stop breathing so fast" Trevor mutters in your ear making you jump. He's keeping his sight focused in front of him. You hadn't noticed but Trevor must've heard your nervous breathing through the headset.

"Sorry." You inhale a large breath through your nose and exhale slowly to steady your intakes of air as you gaze over the lights of Los Santos. It was surreal. The city looked so small from all the way up here. Trevor glanced at you for a second to see the awe on your face, and then his sight returned forward to guide the chopper.

The two of you in the air were covering a lot more ground than travelling by car so it wasn't too long until you pass the Vinewood sign. A few quiet minutes went by as you watched the distant life below you continue existing. You admire some the wildlife on the hills as you hover by. Trevor then breaks the silence.

"Here." You look at him then his hand on the stick steering the helicopter with a scared and confused look in your eyes.

"I hope you're not saying what I think you're saying" Your eyes lock with Trevor's.

"Driving stick is easy" Trevor shrugs.

"That's what people say about cars Trevor! Not fucking helicopters!"

"Look I'll guide you, just put your hand on the stick will ya?"

"There is no way I am doing that" You refuse sternly. Trevor works out the only way you're going to put your hand on the cyclic is if he let's go of it completely. He does and your face turns white as you shout and both your hands grab at it on impulse. "TREVOR WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"You're fine. See just tilt it to steer the chopper" Trevor reassured you and wraps his huge hand around yours on the stick. You stare at his tattoos on his knuckle as he helps to manoeuvre the helicopter. You look up and out over San Andreas from the wide window of the cockpit. You feel a massive rush from the combination of potential death and an exhilarating new experience. You're concentrating so hard on piloting the chopper that you've not felt Trevor take his hand away.

"Look at you Y/N! I bet you didn't think you'd fly a chopper when you put your name down for the foreign student bullshit"

"No I fucking didn't!" You laughed anxiously. "... Can you do it now? I don't want to be the reason we die in a fiery explosion"

Trevor chuckles and takes over the steering of the aircraft as you relinquish control. You sink back into your seat as your heartbeat returns to a healthy speed. Trevor's face returns to a serious focused expression as he continues to pilot the helicopter to the destination. You watch him. He's quiet when he's flying. It's different.

"So did you join the US air force?"

"Sort of." Trevor's eyes are locked in front of him.

"Cananda?"

"It was the, uh Canadian border region of America, yeah."

"I thought so. I can hear it when you talk sometimes."

"It's a faint fucking accent." Trevor growled through his teeth.

"I like it." You saw Trevor's eyes shift toward you as he turned and arched his brow. You felt the pit of your stomach tense as you saw the look in his eye.

"You do huh? Tell me, what else d'you like about me cupcake?" You try to keep your cool and shrug; not wanting to pleasure Trevor's ego any further, but you feel your cheeks warming up.

"I don't know..."

"Pick something. I have many fine qualities" Trevor admits arrogantly.

"Erm... you make me laugh?"

"No, you know what I'm thinkin'? I'm thinkin' it's the way I make your face go to that lovely red colour." Trevor's does his evil smile. He loves pushing your buttons.

"What?" You stutter. Your face is on fire.

"That face of yours, like in the back of Frank's car. You're burning up."

"No I'm not!" You turn and scowl out the window of the door on your left trying to hide your blushing cheeks.

"Was it you who packed all that sexy lingerie that fell out of your suitcase? Thinkin' you'd get lucky in LS? You should be focusing on your studies!" Trevor tuts.

You try to ignore Trevor and don't give him an answer. As you continue your glare out the side of the helicopter, Trevor leans over to you so you feel him leaning up against you. He whispers through the microphone: "Will I ever get to see it?"

"WHY? DO YOU WANT TO BORROW IT?" You finally blurt out swinging around to face him. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you stare him down. Your comeback was supposed to stump Trevor for an answer, but it only fuelled him more. You watch his tongue slide from one side of his jaw to the other behind his bottom teeth. A corner on one side of his mouth lifts up with a grin.

"If that's what you're into sweetheart, I'm game." Trevor teases. He stares wildly into your eyes and you narrow yours back at him. You can taste the tension in the air of this small enclosed space. Trevor notices your full lips puckering when you're concentrating so forcefully. He moistens his mouth and moves away from you after a few seconds with a shit eating smirk on his face. He waits for a moment then makes you see red with his next topic of conversation.

"How's your tattoo healin' up?"

* * *

The chopper stops advancing and instead begins descending in an air field. You hear the rotors slow down as the helicopter touches the sandy dirt. The air is still and not a word is uttered when Trevor removes his headset. You assume it's safe to unbuckle your harness but your fingers fumble at the fastening. Trevor notices.

"You want me to do it?"

"No I'm fine. I got it." Your reply was prickly. You didn't look at Trevor. The straps release and you pull off the headset leaving it on the seat. The co-pilot door is pushed open then your feet fall onto the floor, making a small sand cloud. You watch Trevor emerge from his side and you stomp your boots to confront him. "You make me so fucking crazy you know that?" Your voice is loud. Trevor just looks down at you.

"I know, isn't it great? Can you feel the blood pumping though your veins?"

"You just wait until I find what winds you up." Your blood is boiling. Michael might know. He's known this asshole for a long time. I'll ask him when I get back.

"Are you threatening me?" Trevor flirts. You ignore his question as you feel a drop of liquid hit your forehead. You wipe it away but it's pointless as more fall onto your face as you look up to the night sky.

"Where's your car?" You ask as you're pushing your cold hands into your large, toastie hoodie pocket. Trevor remains unbothered by how damp he's becoming. You notice the denim material around his wide shoulders begin to soak through with the rain water as you wait for his answer. Trevor waves his thick, tattooed arm out and points with his index finger behind you. You turn and spot his Bodhi pickup parked at a lonely gas station not too far away. You spin yourself back to face Trevor with an unimpressed look. "You brought the car without a fucking roof? Fucking great."

"It's just rain. Jesus, you whine just like Michael." Trevor says with his sudden decline in mood. He begins his walk toward his car. You pull your thin hood up and follow close behind him.

"At least Michael would have a car with a roof." You mutter under your breath. Trevor heard you.

"Look if you wanna go back to Michael, then go. No one's making you stay here." Trevor says harshly. You see him standing at the driver's side of his car from the passenger side where you're stood. He's scowling under the dim light on the building. It's pouring with rain. You've hurt him. Trevor feels you've compared him with Michael and come to the conclusion that Michael is superior. This was never your intent and so you're confused to why Trevor is giving you his cold hard shoulder.

"What? I don't want to go back to Michael. I'm here, with you. I want to be here Trevor. Otherwise I wouldn't have come." You say with sincerity. You notice his face soften when you spoke the words. You mirrored his facial expression.

"Alright... let's go." Trevor replies calmly. He gets into the driver's seat and you do so as well on the passenger's side. Trevor reaches for his keys in his sweatpants pocket and starts his truck. The vehicle accelerates causing the wheels to skid and churn up some wet sand behind you.

* * *

Trevor guides the car across the worn roads of the San Andreas desert . You pass a lot of run down houses, not too dissimilar to the ones you saw on your adventure in South LS with Franklin, Lamar, Trevor and the Ballas street gang. Your body temperature is decreasing from your soggy clothes and the cool night air that blew past you in the car. Trevor pulls the car up to a shabby looking trailer. You follow him into the property and stop on the path when he begins to climb the stairs to the porch.

"This is what you wanted to show me? A trailer?" You watch Trevor rotate and step back down a few of the stairs to talk to you.

"Wrong! This is MY trailer and I wanna show you something else, not this." Trevor walks to the entrance, bursts through his trailer door and disappears inside. You're hesitant to find out if he's brought you all the way out here to show you a dead body he had waiting for you in his trailer or something. So, you carefully climb the stairs of the porch and are blinded by the bright wall light on the side of his home next to the front door. You give a gingerly push on the flimsy door and lower your hood in astonishment as you're greeted with a revolting sight.

Cockroaches scatter from the floor of trash where you stood in Trevor's kitchen/dining room/living room. The inside of his home was small. The bathroom was cramped and missing a door. You notice a sad looking, stained couch pushed up against the wall next to the fridge. On the seat was a glass pipe, a dirty magazine and a box of tissues. You didn't have to guess what they were for. You appreciated the 'Benedict' vivid green neon wall art, even if it was hanging on an angle and also the wolf banner above the uncomfortable looking sofa. In the far corner a crate of beer sat on a round wooden table with some empty bottles and cans on their side. You inhaled as it took all of your might not to correct the slanted lampshade by the TV displaying a white noise picture. What was that smell? You try not to but your nose is pulling you to the direction that's causing the stench; an old pizza box and packets of junk food were scattered on the kitchen work surfaces and mouldy dishes floated in the sink. You had a sudden urge to peer into the pizza box and you held your breath as you lifted the lid. You didn't have a good enough look as Trevor startled you emerging from his bedroom. You leave the box alone.

"Ignore the mess; I was just in the middle of cleaning." Trevor says sarcastically. He's removed his jean jacket and so your eyes become very aware of Trevor's wet t-shirt sticking to his abdomen. You quickly shift your eyes back up to his and speak.

"I really hope you didn't bring me all the way out here to clean your home." You cross your arms in front of you and shiver.

"I didn't, but feel free!"

"I'll pass." You tremble from your body trying to warm itself again whilst taking one last look at the dishes and wonder if the water has solidified from sitting there for so long.

"I've got some dry stuff you can wear." Trevor's noticed your shivering and in his strange way offered you some dry clothing.

"What do you have?" You ask eagerly and follow Trevor into his bedroom. He squats to dig around in his wardrobe while your eyes scan your surroundings. More magazines and empty bottles of beer are spread out on the bed and side table and posters of attractive women wearing barely any clothing stuck on the walls. You notice a skull sitting on the dresser next to a small broken TV, wearing a army camo coloured cowboy hat. You wonder whether it's a human skull. You turn toward Trevor when he speaks and notice one door to his wardrobe is removed and leaning beside it.

"Nothing fancy," Trevor stands upright when he hands you a black Love Fist tank, a black zip-up hoodie and pink sweatpants. "be careful with those pants, they were a gift."

"Ok.. thanks." You're holding the small pile of clothing in your arms. You look up to Trevor, waiting for him to leave and give you some privacy. Trevor picks up on your demeanour and arches his brow again. You hate how your heart reacts to when he does something so simple.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before." Trevor's voice is low, almost growling.

"You're not going to leave?" You say in a flat, defeated tone.

"Nope! I want to see your tattoo... again." Trevor pops the p cheerfully and flashes you his wide grin again. You're not fazed by his advances and shrug. You've prioritised not getting a chill over having to take off your clothes in front of Trevor.

You place the dry clothes on Trevor's bed and begin undressing from your wet ones. Your back is facing him as you pull your soaked hoodie up over your head. It exposes your lower back briefly from some of the t-shirt moving with the hoodie. The drenched hoodie forms a clump on the floor as it falls. You unzip your boots and slip your surprisingly dry feet out to remove your pants. After undoing your jeans your cold, red thighs slide out from inside the tight material. You're standing in your damp t-shirt and black lace knickers. It doesn't even cross your mind how see through they are because you're so cold.

You can hear a pin drop as you bend over slightly to find the pink sweatpants in the pile on the end of the bed. You pull them on and then remove your moistened shirt from the bottom and peel it from your body. It comes up over your head and you drop it on the pile with the rest of your sopping articles of clothing. It takes a great deal of restraint from Trevor not to pounce on you as he sees your matching lacy bra strap. You slide your arms through the large arm holes of Trevor's Love Fist tank top and wrap the hoodie around your top half. You push your hands through the arms then zip up the front of Trevor's hoodie.

You reach down to collect your damp pieces of clothing and try to find creative ways to hang them around the trailer for them to dry. It's difficult but you avoid eye contact with Trevor and pretend you've forgotten he was in the room with you. He's standing in the same spot with his jaw slightly ajar, adjusting his shrinking groin space of his sweatpants that contained a rather impressive bulge.


	8. Chapter 8: Waves of Joy in Sandy Shores

You hang your drenched jeans over a cheap brown dining chair next to the round table in Trevor's trailer and your t-shirt over the wooden arm of his sofa. You're searching for a place to hang your hoodie. You spot the door on Trevor's wardrobe and decide to hang it from the upper corner. You make eye contact with Trevor as you look in his direction. The dim light from the bedroom makes him look slightly sinister as he's staring intensely at you. You can see his heavy shoulders expanding and rising with his breaths. You hear the blood rush to your ears from the adrenaline as you approach him.

"Excuse me". You say politely. Trevor steps aside. You reach up on your tip toes to hang your wet clothing, by its hood on the upper corner of the wardrobe door. Trevor wets his lips with his heavy tongue. You're unaware but as you stretch your arms up and hook the hood on the door, some skin underneath your naval peeks out. Trevor sees it and wets his dry throat as he swallows then fists his hands in frustration.

The whole time being inches from Trevor's warm body in the small space of his bedroom makes your heart crash against your ribcage. You bring your arms back down after fixing the clothing on the door, and lock eyes with Trevor. You can feel your throat getting dryer but try to hide your emotions and give him a genuine smile. All you can think of is how inviting his lips are. You notice a scar on his upper lip. You notice his wide animal like eyes.

Trevor can't control his urge as he grabs at your waist and pushes you against the short dresser. You knock into it slightly winded and the items on top shake on impact. You steady yourself with your hands on Trevor's powerful upper arms and stare at his face.

"Are you still cold?" Trevor says with a slight shortness of breath. His warm biceps tense under your grasp.

"... A little." You cannot bring your gaze away from his crazy, coffee coloured eyes. Your quickened breaths makes your chest bob up and down.

"I can think of a few ways to warm you up." Trevor grunts then pushes the front of his hips into you. He watches you watch his hand pull the zip of the hoodie down slowly. It reaches the bottom, disconnecting the two sides of Trevor's black hoodie. Trevor raises his eyebrows and tongues the inside of his bottom lip. He's staring into your eyes as you muster the courage to speak.

"Oh yeah? And... what would those be?" Your gaze is glued to Trevor's face. He pushes the hoodie off your shoulders. It falls to the floor. His hands curl around your waist briefly. You look up to him waiting for his next move. Trevor looks at the floor then back up to your face. Your hips jerk as you feel the palm of Trevor's hand slide into the front of your knickers. You exhale sharply when his fingers touch your area. Trevor doesn't waste time and begins to rub. The sensation makes you breathe in and out rapidly. You tug at his shirt from the pleasure. Trevor chuckles proudly. You pull on the material bringing his face closer to yours and you kiss his mouth hard. Trevor kisses you back but it's short. When he pulls away from your throbbing lips, you give him a confused look.

"Not so fast, cupcake. I wanna enjoy this. I wanna see you scream." Trevor almost growls. You glance at his evil expression as he catches his breath from your kiss. That half smile makes your head spin. You're very self conscious of the facial expressions you make when Trevor's hand on your area. He doesn't take his eyes off of you. You're moaning louder as Trevor grunts from massaging so quickly. You feel your cheeks burning.

"Trevor..." You exhale with a moan. Your legs have become very weak; your arms are trying their best to support yourself on the dresser behind you.

"Mmmm, say my name again sweetheart. I've got a feeling you ain't role playin', you sound different from last time." There's that cocky smile again. You don't weather to punch it or plant a kiss on it. Trevor steadies himself with his free hand and leans on it beside you on the dresser. You run your hand up his tattooed arm slowly. You feel his hand push harder down there and suddenly rub very quickly. Your hand involuntarily grabs Trevor's forearm and you dig your nails into his skin. You turn to Trevor as he grunts with pain then his face softens with pleasure.

Your heart feels like it's in your throat and you keep trying to swallow it back down. You don't know what to do with yourself as you feel the pleasure wash over you. You breathing is erratic along with your groans. Your legs give way and straighten as you're close to your climax. Your hands are grasping hard at Trevor's t-shirt as you feel the familiar, satisfying feeling build up in the pit of your stomach. You're silent as you orgasm with your mouth open slightly. Trevor mimics the opening of your mouth with his and smiles widely. You stutter a moan when you're finished. Trevor leaves his hand motionless in your underwear.

"I wanted to get you off the moment I met you. I couldn't wait to see your o-face." You're about to reply but soon forget what you were going to say as Trevor pushes his hand further underneath you. You're very sensitive in between your legs. He teases his finger at your opening then pulls his hand from your knickers making you take inhale harshly. Trevor steps back to examine his wet hand. "Just checking sugar." You watch Trevor suck the ends of his long fingers.

You steady your breathing and can't wait to dominate Trevor. You advance and cup his rock hard bulge in his pants. You watch his chest rise as he inhales sharply. He tilts his head down to give you that wicked expression you can't get enough of and raises his brow. Trevor waits for you to speak.

"Now, I want to see your o-face." You say confidently as you stroke his crotch. Your gaze doesn't leave Trevor's.

"Yes m'am!" Trevor makes a salute to his forehead with his hand and waits eagerly. You slowly bend in front of him and he's looking down at you licking his lips. You see his chest rise and fall rapidly. You grasp at the sides of his sweatpants and Trevor watches with a hanging jaw. You tug hard and pull them down quickly. As you stand you run your fingertips up Trevor's muscular thighs. You feel goosebumps appearing on his bare skin. You lock eyes as you stand up straight.

Trevor gives you a glare down his nose as you push on his chest with your palms. His pupils are huge. He backs his panting body onto his bed behind him and falls to sit on the end. You yank his Love Fist tank off your skin and slip your legs out of your pants. You're left standing in your underwear in front of Trevor.

Trevor is enchanted by the sight before him and has no words. He's unsure what to do when you advance. You pull his off-white t-shirt up and he frantically hauls it up over his head. You don't give time to focus when the clothing is removed and push your lips onto his mouth. You wrestle with his tongue that's invaded your mouth as he grabs at your chest. You feel your nipples ache and come to a point as Trevor pinches them through your bra. Your lips leave his moaning mouth and begin nibbling his neck. You hear Trevor let out a deep groan when you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

You trail your tongue down his hard, bare chest and remove it at his belly button as you bend your knees again. You make a quick glance at his tight white underwear but Trevor doesn't understand.

"What? You expect me to do all the work?" You say sternly. Trevor enjoys being dominated and soon works out where you were coming from. He's quickly helping as he's anticipating your next act of pleasure. He kicks off his work boots then slides his taught buttocks out of his underwear. You're panting softly as you pull the material down to his feet and then glimpse upward. All you can focus on is his firm, intimidating penis.

You shuffle closer to Trevor, his eyes burning with desire. You don't break your eye contact as your lips touch the end of his shaft. You lick circles around the end of it. Trevor stammers out jolted moans as you wrap your mouth around the head and slowly put more of him inside. You thrive off of making Trevor weak with sexual gratification.

Your mouth slides up and down his shaft slowly with Trevor's hand guiding you on the back of your head. Hearing him moaning from the sensation your mouth is making gives you knots in your stomach. You watch Trevor's eyes roll back into his head as he gets closer to his orgasm.

Trevor regains control over you. He shuffles on the bed and you stop pleasuring him so he can stand. Trevor towers over you as you kneel on the floor.

"On the bed. NOW." Trevor orders. You obey and he watches as you scramble onto the messy bed. You're sat in the middle. You examine Trevor's physique as he's standing completely nude. "Bra off." Trevor watches eagerly as the straps slide off your shoulders and you undo the clasp. You remove your bra and place it on the floor. You feel your breasts hang. Trevor makes a small undetectable sigh then snaps back to being firm.

"Legs. Straight out in front of you." Trevor points with a glare. You're unsure but do so anyway. Once you're in position you wait. "Lie... back." Trevor says calmly. Your heart beat is quickening with uncertainty and anticipation. You listen and lie down on your back. You stare at the stained bedroom ceiling trying to control yourself.

You feel large hands on your legs. Trevor runs his palms up the sides of your calves and over the front of your thighs. You watch them as they get closer and closer to your underwear. Your breathing stutters as you switch your focus from Trevor's hands to his face. His pupils dilate making his eyes looks darker as he sees the effect he has on you. Your face warms up as his hands reach around to the sides of your panties. Trevor stops to ask you a question.

"Are you warmed up yet Y/N?" Trevor twirls the elastic from your knickers around his thick finger. Your voice box is asleep for the moment and you just shake your head as you look down your body at him. You inhale and whine after Trevor pulls on the elastic making it twang and whip your skin. The red mark tingles as he pulls the material down on both sides exposing your moist area. After your panties come off by your toes, Trevor separates your legs slightly. Your legs do as they're told and part so you can feel a mild breeze around your area. Trevor takes a brief look to admire you before sinking his mouth in the middle of your legs. His tongue is working its magic and it isn't long until his movements have you twitching.

You fist your hands, grasping at the bed sheets as Trevor gets more and more aggressive. He's growling and kissing and making circles with his tongue. Trevor grabs at your thighs to keep you from wriggling. You feel another sensation in your lower stomach. Your hot head tilts back, your eyelids clamp shut and your groans become shorter and faster. He pulls his head away then climbs onto the bed so he's on top of your body. Your mouth finds his again as you spread your glistening thighs either side of his moist torso. Trevor grinds himself on your area. You can feel how large and heavy his penis is.

"You're rock hard" You say in between kissing and catching your breath.

"I'm always hard" Trevor smirks.

You feel Trevor rubbing himself on your area making the blood rush around your head and quickly to the rest of your body. You scream as Trevor thrusts himself deep inside without warning. He laughs triumphantly then his mouth does a wide as he watches you stutter noises of ecstasy. He disappears inside you.

"You might wanna hold onto something darling." Trevor suggests. The anticipation makes you feel as though you're about to vomit. Thankfully you don't and instead let out orgasmic moans and groans as Trevor heaves his long, solid shaft in and out of you repeatedly; giving you the greatest amount of sexual bliss you've ever experienced. You feel the force of his crotch smack against yours and you whimper moans so quickly it makes your voice slightly horse.

Your breasts are forced upward toward your collar bone with every rough pounding. You wait out that familiar feeling as much as you can with your palms opening and closing on Trevor's chest. You leave scratch marks on his torso and back and he thrusts harder and faster. He smiles wickedly as he's panting and grunting from the gratification.

You finally give in and climax again with a loud orgasm. Trevor chuckles as he watches your face while you orgasm again.

"So, this your first time in a trailer?" Trevor breathes.

"How-can-you make small talk-are you even-close yet?" You say exhausted and breathless.

"I got a-fuck ton of stamina sweetheart" Trevor's eyebrow arches as he flashes you his arrogant smile again. It makes your blood boil. You pull his neck down and press your mouth on his hot lips. His tongue wrestles yours again. Trevor is close to climaxing so his last thrusts are quick and deep. Noisy moans leave your mouth a few more times before Trevor pulls himself out of you. He climaxes with a high pitched splutter of a noise and releases himself onto your naval.

Trevor dismounts you and you stay lying down with your back on the bed. You watch your stomach slowly rise and descend with your lungs.

"Here." Trevor is quietly panting and nonchalantly hands you a pale blue box of tissues from his bedside table. He's standing in front of the bedside table; there's a small gap between the bed and the adjoining bedroom wall to the kitchen/living room/dining room. You scoot on the bed to the side right up against the wall of the side of the trailer. Trevor sits and lifts his legs onto the bed. He has one of his chunky arms above his head on the pillow where he rests his head. You've sat up against the cheap grey-green headboard that was banging against the wall moments before.

"Thanks, you're such a gentleman." You remark sarcastically and clean yourself up. You ball the tissues and try to find a bin to throw them in. Trevor looks over to you tiredly.

"Give'em here." Trevor takes them from your hand and throws them on the floor next to him. You adjust your position on the bed and lie down next to Trevor. You try to plump the flat pillows and admire Trevor. His eyes are closes but he peeps out of the corner of the one closest to you. "What are you lookin' at?"

"Nothing." You move closer to Trevor and rest your head on his powerful chest. You feel him stretch his neck to look down at you so you glance up to him. You reach your jaw up and share an exhausted brush of one another's lips. Trevor's chest inflates and deflates with yours. One of his long meaty arms comes down to cradle you by his side on the bed. Your breathing slows, and you're soon out cold; drained of any energy. Trevor watches you and waits until you're unconscious. You're sleeping soundly unaware you're pouting your full lips.

When Trevor breathing returns to normal, he arches and stretches his neck around to look around the back of you. He's finally admiring your bare, curvy backside. He then returns his gaze to the ceiling of his trailer and sighs.

"Good Lord above."


	9. Chapter 9: Short Lived

It's early afternoon when you wake up from a loud rattle on Trevor's trailer door. Your brain doesn't register where the noise is coming from. A gritty sound of irritation leaves Trevor's throat. How dare someone wake him from his slumber? You feel his warm body roll away from spooning you and off the bed. You sit up, rub your eyes to focus on the sunlight peeking in through some cheap curtains and watch him drag his tired body to the front door. You notice his clenched buttocks when he walked. He's fully nude when the door swings open from his strength.

You slide quietly off the end of the bed and find your bra, the Love Fist shirt Trevor loaned you and your knickers. You notice your reflection in what was left of the broken screen of the TV that sat on the dresser. You frowned and ran your fingers through your bed hair to try and stop it from sticking up in every direction. All the while your ears were focused on the conversation Trevor was reluctant in having with the person at the door.

"M-morning Trevor." A timid voice greeted.

"The fuck you want Ron?" Trevor mumbled.

"O-Oscar's asking for you. He said he's waiting on a shipment-ah-a-drop I mean."

"Tell him to wait! I'm a little _busy_ at the moment."

"Oh, o-ok. I-I know, you're a busy man Trevor-" Ron was trying not to look down at Trevor's crotch that was on full display.

"-I'm a VERY busy man." Trevor didn't seem to notice or care he was completely naked in front of Ron, or anyone for that matter. Trevor caught onto Ron's uncomfortable demeanour and looked down to the area where Ron was trying his best not to draw attention to. Then his tired eyes where back to Ron.

"It ain't big but it gets the job done. Now LEAVE RON."

"...b-but" Ron protested quietly.

"-BUT?" Trevor raised his voice.

"He d-did say that buyers are waiting. Sorry Trevor." Ron braced himself for one of Trevor's outbursts. You watched the back of Trevor from the bedroom you waited in. None of the men could see you. There was a long pause and Trevor did a strained, irritated noise before deciding what to do.

"Argh! Fine! Tell Oscar I'll be at McKenzie hanger in one hour." Trevor spoke through his teeth.

"Will do Trevor!" You heard scurried footsteps from sandals over Trevor's porch from Ron as he ran to return a call to Oscar. Trevor closed the squeaky trailer door and lazily made his way back towards the bedroom. He stopped when he saw you standing in his Love Fist shirt that only just covered your panties.

"Well. Good morning." Trevor said slowly with a look that made the pit of your stomach tense. His one eyebrow was arched and his mouth was open slightly. You smiled at him politely.

"Morning Trevor." You replied with a nod. You unhooked your hoodie from Trevor's wardrobe door and walked with it in your hands over to your jeans that hung on a dining chair trying to dry. Trevor's eyes followed you as you passed him. He inhaled your scent then made a satisfied growl in his throat. He licked his lips and reluctantly pulled himself away to put some clothes on.

You placed your somewhat dry hoodie on Trevor's round table near the box that held Pißwasser beer bottles. You grabbed at the jeans hanging over the back of the cheap dining chair. They were slightly damp but you figured they'd dry in the desert heat. You pulled them on and pushed your arms into the hoodie then pulled the zip up. You're looking for your boots before realising they're in the bedroom with Trevor. You turn towards the bedroom and sure enough he's standing smugly in the doorway. He's leaning on the doorframe holding your boots with a grin on his face. Trevor's wearing his red-orange Dusche v-neck t-shirt and a pair of cheap grey work pants. You can see his legs and crotch struggling not to burst from the material. As your eyes are trailing down his figure you notice he's put on some tan work boots too. Your eyes are quickly drawn to his face when he speaks.

"Looking for these?" Trevor swings your boots playfully.

"Yes actually." You approach him expecting to hand them to you. It's never that simple with Trevor.

"Ah-ah. You have something of mine." Trevor says wagging his index finger. You sigh and try to hold back a smirk.

"What?" You look up to him.

"My Love Fist tank you have on under there Y/N, I'm gonna need that back." You can't get enough of his eyes. They don't break eye contact with yours as Trevor waits for your reply.

"... No problem." You say with a forced smile. You turn and walk to Trevor's sofa again and take your hoodie off and throw it onto the couch in a lump. Then Trevor watches you pull the Love Fist tank top up over your head and throw that on the couch too. You glance in your peripheral vision to make sure he's looking as you're stood in your bra and jeans. Then once you make your point, you whip your t-shirt off from the wooden armrest and pull the garment onto your body without saying a word. You reapply your hoodie and ball the Love Fist tank in your palms to give to Trevor. When you approach him he exchanges your boots for the tank top without uttering a single syllable. He's just watching you with a raised brow.

You wait for Trevor to say something but he continues to tongue the inside of his mouth and stare menacingly at you.

"Don't get yourself worked up now Trev, _Oscar_ is expecting you." You say seriously as you plant yourself on the couch to pull on your boots. Trevor smells the clothing you were wearing with a pleased expression then balls the tank in his hands and throws it backward over his shoulder.

"I can be late." Trevor approaches you so his crotch is directly in your eye sight when you look up from fastening your shoes. You understand his body language then tilt your head to glance up to his face and raise your eye brows with a smirk. You then stand so your face is closely below his.

"It didn't sound like it. Your friend Ron made that kind of clear..." You stared into his chocolatey-brown eyes. "Besides I've got to get back to Michael... **Michael's**. I mean **-** I've got to get back to Michael's house." You began to blush from the accidental word slip up. Trevor's frown softens when you correct yourself. Trevor pinches and pulls on the bottom of your shirt to bring your hips closer to his groin. You look down at his touch then back to his smirking mouth. "I have to show up to class at some point." You admit with a small laugh.

"... Let me at least show you the operation!"

"What operation?"

Trevor leaves go of his hold on your hips and becomes animated with excitement. "What I do, my work, MY BUSINESS! Trevor Philips Industries! T.P. Inc for short." Trevor looks at you. You love the way his face lights up when he mentions his profession. You smile as you soak up his energy and wait for him to continue. "Just 'cos I'm GOLD rich now doesn't mean I'm not still earning a living."

"What is it you do exactly?"

"I... uh-dabble, in uh drugs and arms trafficking." Trevor leans on his elbow on his kitchen counter. His arm is tensed and bulging. You laugh and shake your head at Trevor's bluntness.

"Why I am I not surprised? You're just crazy enough to do that."

"I agree." Trevor replies smugly. You feel around in your pockets for your phone and the keys to the De Santa residence and once you know they're there, you follow Trevor outside to his Bodhi pickup truck. It's parked just outside the fence surrounding his property. When you emerge from under the porch roof, you see the clear dessert sky and feel the sun scorching down on you. Your hand lifts above your eyes to shield your vision of the bright sunshine.

You hop into the red pickup truck and bathe in the heat of the sun warming your face. Trevor inhales deeply.

"Beautiful day isn't it?" He remarks before starting the car and driving you both to another airfield hanger located in the San Andreas dessert. The dry dessert surroundings pass as the truck chugs down the road. The Alamo Sea twinkles as it sloshes under the sunshine. You feel the lovely summer breeze skim over your skin and through your hair as Trevor drives. He looks over to you in a couple of times just to smile and you smile back. You wished you could live in this peaceful, sunny moment.

* * *

As the truck pulls into the turning for a dirt road, you pass a metal sign for the property; it has a picture of a small red plane on it and underneath there's red font that reads: McKenzie Field.

Trevor leaves the truck first and you hear the engine cool down and click a few times when you step out onto the dirt airstrip. The passenger door shuts with a push from your hand. You feel a small breeze and notice the red wind sock begin to flutter. The minimal noise out here in the desert compared to the city is so calming. Your head snaps into the direction of Trevor shouting.

"This is it!" Trevor is facing you so the large airplane hangar is behind him. He's stretching his thick arms up and out presenting McKenzie airfield to you. He smiles widely showing his teeth. "Trevor Philips Industries!" He lowers his arms as you approach him.

"Impressive." You nod with your hands on your waist.

"Guns and crank 'round here go through Trevor Phillips Enterprise." Trevor points at the ground. He watches you as you study the hangar. The outside is rusted in some areas and the interior isn't much tidier either. There's enough space for the red plane that sits dormant inside but not much else.

"I thought you said it was Trevor Philips _Industries_? Not Enterprise, you can't be both."

"Ah whatever it doesn't matter." Trevor shrugs. You feel like this isn't the first time someone's had questions about the name of the business.

"Is this what you wanted to show me?"

"Not just this, I wanna show you the entire Senora dessert."

You'd love to have Trevor as your tour guide but you can't shake a niggling from the back of your mind. _Oh yeah, I have class._ "Maybe some other time? I've got to get back."

"Or you could stay here and work _under_ me?" Trevor's eyebrow bounced up when said 'under'; implying an ulterior meaning to the word. You enjoy his flirting but try to give a sincere answer.

"I don't think I can do any unregistered work here whilst I'm studying, especially not in the drugs and arms trafficking business." You laugh. Trevor didn't find your stab at his work very funny. You notice the serious atmosphere he's giving off.

"There, uh, something wrong with what I do?" His strange calmness is putting you on edge.

"No. I-" You stutter trying to explain yourself. You didn't mean anything malicious by your comment; it was a simple decline of Trevor's job offer in a business that would surely have you deported. He unfortunately took it as a degrading insult of his work. He cut you off with his explosive rage.

"NO PLEASE, ENLIGHTEN ME! I'D LOVE TO KNOW WHY MY WORK IS SO DEMEANING TO YOU. YOU LOT FROM THE CITY ARE ALL THE SAME! You stick your noses up at some fucking great opportunities a generous business man has kindly offered you, just 'cos they require that little _too_ much effort!" You frown at Trevor's dramatics, confused at his outburst. How dare he make an assumption about you. He's offended and clenches his fists. Trevor doesn't take well to being rejected, but instead of accepting it and moving on like many other more stable individuals, he takes it to the extreme. "And another thing-"

You're annoyed at him cutting you off so instead of letting him finish shouting you shout louder. "IF YOU JUST LET ME FUCKING SPEAK I'LL EXPLAIN!" You scream. There's a stunned stillness in the hot desert air. The look Trevor is giving you makes you question whether you should even breathe let alone say another word. You decide to hold off for now while he continues staring at you for a couple more minutes. You brace yourself and lean away slightly when he approaches and comes up close to your face.

"What's your problem huh? WHY AREN'T YOU SCARED OF ME?!" Trevor's fury is as though it's evaporating from him. You stare into his sour face with yours that's equally sour.

"I. Don't. Know." You admit honestly. Your body should be cowering before this mad-man but you don't. The two of you don't know what to say in that moment so you just stand in silence. Your eye contact is broken from a noise and a vibration from your pocket. You fumble around and pull out your smartphone. Once Trevor sees you answer the call he moves away and relaxes his wide shoulders.

"Hello?" You speak into the phone and hear a familiar voice on the other side.

"Y/N? You ok? PLEASE don't tell me you're with Trevor." Michael's concerned but disappointed tone could be heard by Trevor. You didn't have a chance to answer him as Trevor slid the phone from your hand. Trevor's thick finger poked the screen to put it on speaker phone and held it in his large hand.

"Leave her alone Mikey! You have your own little protégé, so why can't I? Y/N's helping me run some errands." Trevor growled down the phone. _What does he mean by protégé?_

"What? Run errands? Why? Where?" Michael replies anxiously.

"Sandy Shores. Well, Grapeseed to be exact."

"GRAPESEED? The fuck you doing out there?" You hear Michael strain his voice.

"I have work to do." Trevor replied vaguely. There's a pause as Michael waits for Trevor to expand on his reason. He doesn't and just pushes you your phone back into your hand. You accept it and decide it's your turn to chime in.

"Michael? I'm ok. Trevor was showing me his business." Your vision flickers from the phone to Trevor's cranky expression.

"His business?" Michael snaps back down the line.

"YES! MY business; Trevor Philips Industries. I'm productivity personified despite being rich as fuck, unlike you, sugar tits." Trevor spits at the phone.

"Yeah yeah we all know you work hard for your living T." You detect sarcasm in Michael's tone.

"So what you calling for M? You giving rides back to the city? Cos I'm late for work." You look at Trevor after he finishes speaking and he gives you a blank stare and a shrug then looks back to the phone. You're still pissed off at him from raising his voice at you.

"Yeah I love driving people around." Michael remarks sarcastically. He sighs before continuing. "Y/N I'll pick you up from Grapeseed. Please don't go anywhere else." You're about to thank Michael before being interrupted by Trevor.

"-McKenzie airfield." Trevor finishes and leaves you. His shoulders are high and tense. You grip the phone and watch as Trevor struts away to his plane. You feel like punching him. _Asshole._ He's just as stubborn as you when it comes to arguing and apologising. You watch Trevor get in his plane and some smoke leaves the exhaust from the back when he starts it up. You stand aside and focus on the phone. You turn off the speaker phone and hold the device to the side of your head.

"Y/N you ok? Trevor didn't sound too happy." You hear Michael's voice in your ear.

"Yeah I'm fine." You say sharply still annoyed at Trevor. Michael changes the subject.

"Tracey said you haven't turned up to class since you got here." There's a pause before you reply to Michael, realising that what he said was true. You expected a boring, parental lecture and rolled your eyes with a sigh.

"It's been a few days. I can catch up." You reply as you walk to the end of the dirt road Trevor drove into. You see the red plane take off from the runway and watch as it shrinks away in the sky in the distance.

"You're going **today**. Leave the exploring for another day." Michael said firmly. You don't protest. "I'll see you in about thirty mins."

"Ok thanks Michael." You reply before hanging up the call. You kick some of the ground and pace waiting by the entrance of the airfield. You lean on the tall electricity pole and thumb through your phone for a while but once boredom soon sets in you cross the road from the airfield. You stand by the shallow bit of shore of the Alamo Sea and try to skip stones as you wait for Michael to show up.


	10. Chapter 10: Sunshine in Vinewood

A shiny, black sedan pulls into the side of the country road. You hear a heavy door shut close by and look up from staring across the Alamo Sea. You turn to see Michael walking toward you. He gives you a brief wave and a short smile. You approach him. He's wearing his grey suit and removes his aviators when he reaches you.

"Having fun?" Michael remarks as he glances at the stones in your palm. You toss them to the ground and shrug.

"Just passing the time, thanks for coming to pick me up by the way. I would've got a cab." You say sheepishly.

"Cabs are expensive, anyway I don't mind. C'mon. You don't wanna be late for your official first day." Michael ushers you to the car and you slide into the passenger side. You watch as Michael gets in next to you and starts up the car. The rock radio station begins playing and you apply your seatbelt enjoying the music.

You rest your cheek on your hand as your arm's propped up against the passenger door. You watch the beautiful scenery of the desert slip away as Michael guides the car onto the freeway.

"What did you think of the redneck country?" Michael pipes up, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turn to him and sigh.

"It was nice while it lasted." You admit.

"Really?" Michael laughs. "I guess the scenery isn't half bad but the rest of it? There's nothing fucking out here Y/N!"

"I liked it. It was calming; don't get me wrong, the city is great too. It's just nice to see some of the country too though."

"You can't expect me to believe you came all the way out here, to the fucking desert, for the scenery."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask annoyed.

"C'mon baby! I know you weren't out here for the view." Your eyes could burn holes into the side of Michael's face. He keeps his eyes on the road trying to find the best way to battle the traffic.

"How the fuck would you know? You weren't there." You're offended. How can he make assumptions? The assumptions were right on the money, but still, Michael hardly knows you.

"I saw the way Trevor looked at you when he met you. I just hope he didn't force himself on you." Michael was dancing around the suggestion that he knew you slept with Trevor.

"He didn't! I wouldn't let him, or anyone for that matter, and anyway, what the fuck has it got to do with you?" Your cheeks are beginning to burn with slight embarrassment and fury.

"Nothing. I just know what he's like that's all. He's a fucking psycho." Michael stated the obvious.

"I know!" You hate being lectured, especially by someone you barely knew. The car you sat in snailed along in the traffic on the freeway, and Michael was able to face you now without the danger of distracting himself and crashing the car.

"You knew that? And you still... y'know" Michael's baby blue eyes were piercing you with his disappointed dad frown.

"I slept with him, yes, it's not that hard to say Michael. I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions."

"...Mistakes." Michael said under his breath. You heard him. He sighed as he grew agitated at the traffic that was inching only slightly forward.

"I'll be the judge of that!" You said sternly and watched as Michael clenched his sharp jaw. _Why does_ _ **he**_ _give a damn?_

* * *

After a painful thirty minutes or so of being stuck in Los Santos traffic with Michael, you finally arrive at the De Santa's residence. Once Michael removes the keys from the ignition, you quickly emerge from the car and march inside to shower, dress yourself in a change of clothes and grab your rucksack full of your stuff for class. You're making your way down the staircase and pull your phone from your pocket and text Tracey:

"Hey Trace. I'm home. About to head to class, you going today?" You walk out the front door in a huff and seconds after you hit send, you bump into Jimmy who was walking up to the house from the driveway.

"Woah! Sorry Y/N." Jimmy brushed his hand accidentally across your bust in the scuffle. He wasn't looking where he was going either. "I did _not_ mean to..." Jimmy was pointing awkwardly at your bust and trying not to look directly at it.

"Christ! What is with the De Santa men today?!" You spit through your teeth, taking your frustration out on Jimmy. Jimmy just looks at you with his wide, grey eyes, surprised at your outburst and also deeply saddened he's offended you.

"Sorry, Jimmy. It's fine, it's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." You say with a laugh to reassure him you believe it was a complete accident. Jimmy's face softens with your more relaxed attitude.

"It's cool yo." Jimmy smiles warmly at you accepting the apology. "You... uh finally heading to class then?" Jimmy studies your backpack.

"Yeah, I thought: may as well, while I'm here." You joke. Jimmy makes a short laugh.

"So where've you been? You were gone most of the night again." Jimmy was curious and a little concerned.

"I.. uh went exploring." You nodded to try and seem honest. It wasn't the full truth but it wasn't a lie either.

"All night? Where?"

"The desert."

"... Were you with my Uncle Trevor?"

"So what if I was?" You say defensively.

"Hey," Jimmy raised his palms as he walked around you to the porch. "I ain't judging. You do you boo." Jimmy pointed his index fingers up to you before turning around to enter his home. You shake your head and laugh at the strange encounter and feel a buzzing from your pocket. It's a reply from Tracey:

"Hey! Y/N where've you been? Yeah I'm going today. Wanna meet up somewhere first? I'm dying for a skinny latte! Do you know where Bean Machine is? It's not far from the house. I'll meet you there!"

You open your map application on your phone and type in 'Bean Machine Rockford Hills'. It's a very short walk from the De Santa house and takes all of five minutes.

* * *

You take a seat at an empty table outside of the Bean Machine cafe and scroll through your social media. You didn't expect Tracey to be on time anyway, but fifteen minutes go by and you're starting to get annoyed. You sip at your beverage and continue to wait for Tracey to show. You're fed up of looking at the screen in your hand and instead shove it into your pocket to start people watching. You lean back in the chair and bask in the sunbeams that warm your skin. You relax your shoulders into the seat and face your head up to the sky to soak in the heat. Your attention is soon drawn on the road to your right from the roar of a muscle car. You recognise a long, white car park itself outside the Bean Machine and watch as the driver emerges. Sure enough it's Franklin, you'd recognise that brooding face anywhere. He's wearing a green backwards cap, a grey zip up hoodie with a black t-shirt underneath, some basketball shorts and bright white sneakers. You catch his eye as he walks up to the coffee shop and he stops to greet you.

"Hey, Y/N init?" Franklin smiles as he approaches your table.

"Yeah." You smile up at him. "How's it going Franklin?"

"Good, y'know. Survivin'. How's Trace doin'?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself? She's meeting me here." You check your clock on your smartphone. "Well, she was supposed to be here by now, but it's Tracey so..." You shrug.

"Yeah I know what you mean dog." Franklin laughs. "Imma gon' get me a coffee, you want something?"

"No thanks. I'm set." You hold your fairly full to-go cup up to Franklin. He nods and pulls the glass door to the establishment to go inside. You wait for Franklin to return and receive another text from Tracey:

"Soo sorry Y/N! I'm gonna be late, order me a skinny latte? Thanks *kiss face emoji*"

You sigh and roll your eyes, then stand, pull your backpack on your shoulder and join the small queue inside the coffee shop. The place was well lit and smelled strongly and unsurprisingly of coffee beans. The glass display cases that held snacks of cookies, muffins and slices of cake were almost nonexistent from how buffed and clean they were. Long brass ceiling lights hung down above small couches that huddled around dark wooden coffee tables. Clinking noises of cups from the staff clearing tables and stirring of spoons can be heard throughout. Franklin turns as he notices you lining up behind him. His cologne was strong but pleasant.

"Thought you said you was cool?" He said over his muscular shoulder.

"I was. Tracey asked me to order for her." You wave your phone in your hand to Franklin and sigh with annoyance.

"I'll get it. What she havin'?"

"You sure?" You reposition your backpack on your shoulder sheepishly.

"Yeah, I'm here in line ain't I? No point in the both of us waitin'."

"Ok, thanks Frank. She said she wanted a skinny latte."

"A'ight." Franklin nods and smiles and you reciprocate the gesture then return to your table outside. You sip at your drink for a few minutes then Franklin pulls up a chair and joins you. He places his glass cup of tea and Tracey's to-go cup on the wooden table. You watch as Franklin takes a mouthful from the glass teacup. He notices you staring at him.

"The fuck you lookin' at?" Franklin asks after swallowing.

"Nothing, I just didn't take you for the tea drinking type." You say intrigued. It was cute seeing a small teacup in Franklin's large hands.

"Whatever man." Franklin shrugs off your words and continues to enjoy his tea. You smile at him then watch passersby's with Franklin in silence for a few minutes.

"Yo neck still ain't healed." You suddenly become self conscious. Your hands grab and rub your neck.

"What?" You're confused as to what Franklin was referring to.

"Either you been fallin' on yo neck a bunch of times, or I'm thinkin' those are from someone's mouth." Franklin pointed at several spots on your neck and your face warms up. Trevor's love bites must have began to show up on your skin. He takes another glug of his cup of tea watching your fondle your neck. Franklin's teacup is placed back down as he leans in on his elbows on the table. "Daym girl. You're new to LS and after like-three days, you been gettin' some? Respect. You ain't waitin' around for no one huh?"

"Oh god! Are they really noticeable?" You feel around for the areas on your neck and try to see them in your reflection in your phone screen.

"Nah man. I'm just playin'." Franklin watched with a half smile as he took another sip of his tea. "... So that night you helped me and Lamar with them Ballas, I take it that weren't no bruise from a fall neither?"

"No." You didn't really want to elaborate. You opened your front facing camera on your phone to try and see the purple marks on your skin. Franklin's face dropped as he noticed your one word answer.

"Did Trevor... jump you?" Franklin's expression was sympathetic as he expected the worst. You lowered your phone and made eye contact with Franklin's glistening brown eyes.

"No, I told him to."

"You told T to give you that on yo neck? So you into freaky dudes like Trevor?" Franklin smiles as he learns more about you. He had his first impressions of you too.

"That night, I told Trevor to act like we were doing stuff up against the wall next to where the Ballas deal was going down. We were just about to get caught and that's the first thing I could think of to look inconspicuous." You fold your arms on the table in front of you.

"What kind of stuff?" Franklin flirted as he took another sip of his tea. You watched him bring it to his thick lips. The golden liquid sparkled in the sunshine as it splashed in the cup. Your grin pulled up on one side of your mouth and your gaze was now fixed on the table as you thumbed at your phone.

"Hmm, where is Tracey?" You mumble to yourself to try and change the subject. Franklin is aware you've avoided his question because you've gone shy and decides not to keep going. Your cheeks flush red as you try not to look him in the eye.

"Girl's latte is getting cold." Franklin adds. You nod at him and then your eyes are back to watching people rushing and speaking on their phones as they pass the Bean Machine. After a few minutes of sitting in relaxed silence, Tracey pulls up in her orange Weeny Issi. The two of you are startled slightly by her excessive use of her car horn.

"Hey! Y/N you ready?" Tracey waves from her convertible. It's such a warm and beautiful day that she has an excuse to drive with the roof down.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec Trace!" You try to shout over her blearing music from her car radio.

"Hurry up! We're super late!"

"And whose fault is that?" You spit back with some frustration as you stand. Franklin does a small laugh from your last comment and finishes his cup of tea. He begins to leave too and walks you to Tracey's car.

"Bye Franklin. Thanks for getting her coffee." You hold Tracey's coffee cup up to him then you leave Franklin's side.

"It's cool, see ya Y/N." Franklin replies with a kind smile, then he inhales through his nose as he spots Tracey; he's readying himself for her overwhelming energy. Tracey removes her sunglasses so they sit on the top of her head and turns her radio down so you don't have to scream at each other over the music.

"Oh my gosh! Franklin? Hey! What are you up to tonight?" You're close enough to pass Tracey her now lukewarm latte. She accepts it then proceeds to ignore you and focuses on Franklin.

"I got plans tonight Trace." Franklin lies; he doesn't want a repeat of their last date and decides to keep his distance from Tracey. You walk around to the passenger side of the car with what's left of your coffee in your hand. You dump your backpack into the backseat and sit next to Tracey in the front passenger seat.

"That's fine; I've got plans too... Me and Y/N and some others are going out to a club, just thought you'd wanna join us."

"We are?" You ask Tracey not knowing anything about the event she mentioned.

"Nah I'm good. Have fun!" Franklin says with a smirk aimed at you. You shrug your shoulders and make a 'I don't know' expression with your face. Tracey gives Franklin a wave goodbye with her coffee in her hand as she pulls away from the curb.

You wave to Franklin as Tracey speeds off. She turns her car radio up again at a deafening volume. You watch in the wing mirror as Franklin raises his hand to casually give one flick from his wrist to wave. Once you and Tracey are out of sight Franklin leaves too.

* * *

Class drags on and you find yourself sitting there waiting for the time to be up so you can leave and enjoy the sunshine. You try to listen to the Professor but all you can focus on is Tracey's tapping noise from texting beside you. You glance at her screen to see if she was maybe making notes in her phone of the class, nope, she wasn't. Her thumbs flicked across the screen texting multiple contacts at once. You assume she's trying to arrange the outing for tonight that she mentioned to Franklin earlier.

"Hey Trace" You whisper over to Tracey sat next to you. "What we doing after class?" You were about to suggest exploring the city or maybe heading to the beach.

"Dad's asked me to pick some lunch up for him and drop it off at his work. You can come with if you like." Tracey whispers back. You see a couple students turn their heads at the two of you and give you a look to say shut the fuck up.

"Cool. Where's that?"

"It's the movie studio; it's not far from the Pier."

"Oh yeah, you're Dad is a big shot, Vinewood producer." You chuckle softly at your inside joke.

"Yah... he loves his movies." Tracey added looking over to you with squinted eyes not understanding what you found so funny. She pockets her phone and closes the lid to her laptop and begins to stand. You give a glimpse around the room and notice all the other students are packing up their stuff to leave too. You didn't even notice class was over. _What did I learn today?_ You happily lift your backpack from between your feet and pack your notepad, pencil case and text books into your bag then secure the zip. You managed to jot down a few notes during the lesson but were mostly distracted and daydreaming about exploring more of what Los Santos has to offer.

You follow close behind Tracey as she descends the stairs of the lecture hall and the two of you spill out into the corridor with the rest of the students. You separate yourselves from the others and walk together to her car she's parked across the street from the campus. You dump your backpack in the boot of her Weeny convertible then slide yourself into the passenger seat and quickly turn off the radio before Tracey sits inside too.

* * *

After picking up a sub sandwich personally requested by Michael and a late lunch for yourselves, Tracey drives you to the movie studio in Backlot City. She finds a space in the lot near some stairs to a building and the both of you exit the car. Tracey expects you to keep walking with her to the entrance but you can't help but take in the place. You're stood on an actual movie set. _This is so cool!_ You watch a few people wearing headsets dart pass with scripts in their hands and some of them scurry towards small domed trailers. You spot an actor in a costume in the distance and try to focus on it to identify what it was he was dressed as. _Is that an alien?_

"Y/N, c'mon! I don't wanna be here all day!" Tracey whined. You sigh and jog towards her. You catch up with Tracey as she leads you up the stairs and inside the building to the offices.

Tracey stops at a door with a metal name plate. It reads "M. De Santa". You stand by her side as she knocks before opening the door. As you enter you study the interior of Michael's office. It's a decent size. The floor is a dark, stained wood and matching half the surrounding walls. Above the wood panelling on the walls, the wallpaper is a dull cream making the emerald green rug on the floor pop. You spot a tall producer's chair in the far corner of the room near the windows covered in coffee coloured, venetian blinds. Your eyes find Michael; he's typing away on his laptop behind his large desk and a framed poster of the movie Meltdown hung behind him on the wall, as well as a few other posters of assumedly Michael's favourite movies. Michael stands when he hears Tracey's voice and you enter the room shortly after her.

"Hey Dad, we brought your lunch you wanted." Tracey approached Michael as he made his way around from the heavy looking, antique desk. She placed the sub sandwich on Michael's desk and embraced him.

"Hey Trace! Thanks." Michael kissed Tracey on her head as she held him. As he pulled away he made eye contact with you and you smiled politely at him. "How was class?" Michael asked the two of you but kept his blue eyes on you.

"It was fine Dad. Can we go now?"

"What? You don't want a tour of the place?" Michael laughed.

"Dad, unless you have some hot new actors, we don't want to see some boring old movie set." Tracey declined. You watch Michael roll his eyes at her.

"Speak for yourself!" You laugh and admit a bit too loudly. Tracey gives you a fierce frown and Michael beams with delight from behind her. You're forced to continue.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind looking around. I've never been on a movie set..." You say quieter than before.

"Fine. I've seen it before anyway. I'll be at home." You stumble to one side so Tracey doesn't walk into you, as she's tapping her phone and doesn't watch where she's walking. You watch as she closes the door behind her harshly. You turn back to Michael showing your teeth in an awkward expression at Tracey's attitude and tap at the sides of your legs to fill the harsh silence. Michael just watches you and waits for you to speak.

"Do you have the time to give tours? Being a Vinewood producer and stuff?" You finally ask.

"Not really, but Solomon won't mind." Michael leans on his desk behind him and starts to remove the wrapping on his sandwich.

"Are you sure? I can catch up with Tracey, I don't want to get you in trouble with your boss."

"Y/N it's fine I-" Michael is interrupted from his door opening and in steps an older man with white receding hair and wearing a suit with a loose tie around his neck.

"Oh, excuse me. Sorry Michael, I didn't know you were busy." You lock eyes with this man and give him a polite smile.

"It's ok Solomon, this is Y/N she's a-" Michael begins introducing you but is quickly cut off.

"-a beauty, I'll tell you that much!" Solomon reaches his hand out to shake yours. You politely accept and grasp at his handshake at him. "So what you doing here sweetheart? Come to audition?" Solomon's rough hand let's go of yours.

"Uh, no." You blush and give him an uncomfortable smile. "I'm just here to see Michael."

"Oh... OH I see." Solomon flashes Michael a small, half smile then looks you up and down. "I'll leave you to it then." The older man leaves Michael's office and turns back for a second to tap the side of his nose with his index finger. Then he closes the door behind him.

You're still wearing your frown and are confused by the interaction so purse your lips as if you're about to say something but can't find any words. You turn to Michael for an explanation and he just shrugs and chuckles with a shake of his head. You have a feeling Michael knew what Solomon was implying because you knew what Solomon was implying; he assumed you were visiting Michael without his wife knowing, in other words an affair. So, then why didn't Michael interject at the assumption?

"So you still want that tour?" asks pointing his sandwich in his hand to the door. You watch Michael grab his suit jacket that was hanging off his chair behind his desk and hold it over his shoulder with his middle and index finger. That little interaction with Solomon massaged his ego real good. You watch him as he walked by you and open the door to his office again. He smells so clean and his aftershave lingers in your nose. He takes a bite off the end of his fat sub sandwich and motions with a jerk from his head that the tour of the movie set is about to start. You do as you're told and follow him out the door. Michael will be your close, personal tour guide.


	11. Chapter 11: Producer Perks

Michael made sure you saw the best parts of the movie set. He walked with you and passing employees greeted him with polite smiles. Michael made an effort to acknowledge his co-workers the times he didn't have a mouth full of his lunch. It was interesting to see what happens behind the camera but there was only so much Michael was allowed to show you. Michael's pride and energy whilst showing off his work place to you rubbed off on you, and you'd grin and listen intently as you watched him get excited showing you the equipment they used in some old movie he was able to recite quotes from.

Seeing actors out of character but still wearing their costumes and having a coffee or a cigarette break was surreal. Michael probably let you see more than you were supposed to anyway because of your close connections to the producer of this particular movie set, and experiencing so much of the behind the scenes made you feel like a VIP.

"And over there is apparently where some guy just fucking walked on set and stole a Dewbauchee JB 700. That car was supposedly worth 475 fucking G!" Michael's voice dips in volume with his arm hovering around your back. He walks you as close as he can to a set where cast members are shooting a scene. He points to what looks like an old fountain in the middle of an Italian styled town.

"So someone just walked up and stole a fucking car in front of everyone on set?" You whispered back still watching the scene taking place.

"Yep, drove the thing right off set." Michael pointed back behind the two of you.

"Do they know who did it?" You're intrigued and turn to face Michael. His blue eyes caught the Los Santos sunlight beautifully.

"Nope, people say it was some rogue fucking stunt man or something." Michael shrugs not fully believing the rumour himself. He watches as you're genuinely interested and studying the place where the car supposedly disappeared. Michael comes a bit closer to your ear. "... probably pissed he wasn't getting enough credit in the movie or something. Stuntmen are highly underappreciated in this business." You nod and watch in awe from the sidelines of a movie being made. Some small scenes are rehearsed and you watch quietly. Michael leans in close to you again. "D'you wanna ride?"

"-What?!" Your head snaps back to Michael and you're beginning to blush. _He can't possibly mean what I'm thinking._ Some of the crew members in the distance turn their heads toward the noise. You were a little too loud in your reply but they didn't reprimand you as they could see you were stood with Michael. They just gave you dirty looks instead and turned pages of the script loudly.

"... Back home? Do you want a ride back to the house?" You're unaware as you've broken eye contact with Michael from your embarrassment, but his sparkling eyes ogle you up and down with a smirk. You clear your throat to reply.

"No, honestly it's fine. I can walk, it's not far." You feel guilty having Michael chauffer you around.

"Do you even know the way?" Michael replies. You think hard for a little while but end up shaking your head signalling a no towards Michael. He sighs at the floor then looks up at you making your heart flutter. "My keys are in my office." Michael points over his shoulder with his thumb and you follow as he makes his way back to the building.

* * *

The brass doorknob to Michael's office is turned and you disappear inside with him. The door clicks shut behind you and decide to give his office a more detailed inspection as Michael rifles through the drawers of his desk for his misplaced car keys. In his frustration his throws his suit jacket on the back of his desk chair in a huff. Then as a last resort, he closes and lifts his Fruit laptop to see if his keys were hiding underneath but they obviously weren't. He sighs again and slides his work laptop into a wide drawer he pulled out from his desk to minimise the clutter on his desk.

You pass the time studying framed posters and old photos that hung on his walls along with trinkets and souvenirs from past movies Michael had lying around his office. You were handling a rather expensive and rare prop from a movie making Michael quickly move toward you.

"Can you put that down Y/N please? What you're holding cost **a lot** of money." Michael held his palms out anxiously at you. It was strange seeing him like this.

"Oh. Sorry." You handed the coin to Michael and he placed it back in its velvet lined case on a slim table in front of you and pressed the lid closed. He looked at you briefly without saying anything and you assumed he was going to lecture you again. Michael was in fact admiring the way the sun outlined the freckles sprinkled on your face and lighting up your eyes. The sun shone through the gaps of his open blinds on the large window of his office.

"So are you and Trevor...er... y'know"

"What?" You smile seeing Michael become uncomfortable.

"... Was it just a onetime thing? Or... or should I start calling you Mrs. Philips?" Michael joked and regained social control.

"What? I... I hardly know him Michael! It just... happened that's all." You look at the floor briefly remembering back to that night and how good Trevor made you feel. Your hand found its way to your neck and your fingertips traced the fading purple marks on the skin.

"In the desert?"

"What?" You're snapped out of your reminiscent memories and look up to Michael to respond. "...Yeah, but not literally in the fucking dirt or anything-"

"-and not in that corrugated metal death shack though right?" Michael whined, hoping you would at least have some class or sense after already knowing Trevor lacks any of the sorts. Michael took your lack of a reply as a reply and shook his head. "Fucking Christ... you know he's almost like fifty."

"That... doesn't make a difference." You say confidently with a smug grin. Michael is surprised with your retort and raises his eyebrows. "Old fucks are your type then huh?"

"Not really. I don't have a type per say. If I like someone I like someone." You answered honestly with a shrug.

"And you _like_ Trevor?" Michael wanted to hear you confirm it before he even considered to believe it.

"I did." You say coldly as you remember the way he treated you back in Grapeseed.

"You did? Oh, yeah that's right, he sounded pissed, well, more pissed than usual, when I called you. What happened out there?" Michael looked concerned and braced himself for something worse.

"He got mad that I turned down a job offer to work for him and his business. A job offer that would almost, definitely have me expelled and deported... Trevor took it... personally." You rolled your eyes.

"Trevor always takes things personally so don't sweat it. Smart move though kid. Trust me; working with Trevor, it ain't an easy task, by far." Michael rolled his neck to stretch and calm himself.

"I bet." You laugh. Michael just watched you again with his bluer than blue eyes as you turn away to inspect more of his office. You notice trinkets on his desk. There's a mischievous, glint in his eye as you pass and he admires you from behind.

"Y/N... what did you think I meant out there just now?"

"About what?" Your attention is on Michael's executive toy on his desk. You lean on your elbows on the desk and pull one of the metal balls on one side to start the contraption.

"About wanting to... _ride."_ When the word ride left Michael's lips your heartbeat instantly rose with the sexual energy you could almost feel evaporating off of Michael standing behind you. You freeze as you hear him slowly approach you. Your torso is bent forward over the front of Michael's large wooden desk. Your black, bodycon mini skirt that clung to your thighs lifted up slightly when you leant forward. You felt Michael's presence by your bottom and you gasped as he yanked the skirt up to expose your plump, round butt cheeks. Your heart pumped blood quicker feeling Michael's strong hand grasp at the material now bunched up above your backside. You turn your head to face Michael as he ran his thick fingers under your g string of your underwear, teasing you but also waiting for permission. Your dark eyes darted back and forth from his hand and his face.

"Is this what you meant baby?"

"I knew you fucking loved it when your boss thought I was your _other woman_."

"Do you wanna be, gorgeous?" Michael pulled the elastic of your panties up that sat in the crack of your buttocks making the material at the front of your area strain and apply pleasurable pressure to your clit. You exhale a high breathy moan.

"Yes Mr De Santa!" You squeal. You saw the look on Michael's face and he released a chuckle then a moan.

"Mmmh, that fucking ass. I could look at that all day." Michael spreads his warm palm across your cheek then smacks it hard leaving your skin to sting. You cry out at the impact then a wide smile spreads across your face. The idea of Michael fucking you from behind and in his office, got you all hot and bothered really fast.

Michael yanks down your knickers exposing your area. Your breathing quickens at the anticipation and you feel butterflies in your stomach. Michael grabs hard at the flesh of your bottom and your upper thigh. He's teasing you, and seems to be touching you everywhere but the place you want him to. _Did he lock the door to his office?_ Just as you're thinking to ask, his stubby fingers slide into you causing your back to arch upward and your arms to straighten underneath you on the desk. You can't control your stuttered breathing as Michael starts fingering you slowly. His other hand is squeezing and slapping your bottom every now and then.

"Angel, you're already so fucking wet. I bet Trevor could never get you this wet."

"Make me wetter Mr. De Santa." You mumble a moan. Michael chuckles and his thrusts quicken making your face heat up. Your moans become shorter but double in quantity with the amount of breathing you have to do to keep yourself from passing out.

"Not so loud baby! People might hear..." Michael strains as he fingers you deeper and rougher. You could almost feel Michael's triumphant smile, burn into you as you stared in an ecstacy haze at the posters hung up on the wall behind his desk.

"Shit! I don't think I locked the door." Michael slides his fingers out of you and you turn yourself around to watch him walk away. You're panting and disheartened as he leaves you to check the door to his office. You lean your bare backside on the front of his desk and watch him fumble the doorknob. You hear a click.

"You-didn't... lock it?!" You say with a frown catching your breath, with your face still burning.

"Ah relax babycakes. It's locked now." Michael saunters back toward you with his heavy shoulder walk. You prop yourself up on the desk not knowing what to expect and Michael pinches your jaw line to kiss you hard on your lips. He tastes like old cigarettes and bourbon. You melt into the embrace as Michael's dry hand made its way into your hair. The sensation drove you crazy as his fingers play with your hair. You felt the sides of his mouth curl up to smile as you let out a moan into his mouth. The warmth from his crotch pushes into your leg and Michael pulls away from kissing you. Michael studies your youthful face and sighs. He rests his stubby index and middle fingers that were inside you not too long ago on your hot, plump lips.

"Shhh baby. Remember not too loud." Michael says softly. You nod and his thumb strokes your cheek.

"Ain't I the luckiest guy alive? Not to get sentimental and shit but your college could've picked anywhere else."

"Too bad I ended up in this shit hole." You joke. It makes Michael chuckle and shake his head.

Michael's eyes burned with desire as he watched your next move. You grabbed his hand near your mouth and inserted his fingers soaked with your juices into your mouth. Your full lips ran down the length of his fingers and you sucked any residue off. You popped Michael's stubby fingers out of your mouth and did circles with your tongue on his finger tips. Michael watched in awe and mouthed the work "fuck" and you heard him whisper it ever so lightly. He raised his eyebrows and hung his jaw as you let his hand fall beside him and pushed him away from you slowly. When you had enough room you began to kneel in front of him.

"Now it's your turn to try and be quiet Michael." You purr as you unbuckle his belt. You glance up to him and notice his jaw is still ajar slightly. You watch from under his slightly hanging stomach as he exhales and inhales quickly. Michael's pupils dilate within his beautiful blue eyes as you take your time pulling the zip down of his suit trousers. You hear him exhale sharply as you forcefully undo the button and smirk back up to him. He must be very sensitive. Your vision is now on the bulge straining within the material of his boxers. You reach your hand into his underwear and release his rock hard penis. It now hung in front of you demanding entrance to your mouth. You study it before making eye contact with Michael again whilst kneeling on the floor. _Michael's slightly smaller than Trevor but his size is still impressive._

Without breaking eye contact with Michael, you wrap your cushiony lips around the tip of his cock and it slips into your warm mouth. Michael exhales a strained moan as you pull more and more of Michael's length into your mouth and bob your head back slowly to release him. It doesn't take long for you to speed up your sucking and licking. Michael isn't sure what to do with his hands so he places one around the back of your skull to try and control your rhythm. The force from the back of your head keeps you in place as Michael forces more of himself in and out of your throat. It's taking all of Michael's might not to release and orgasm loudly in your mouth. You grasp his shaft and pull him out of your mouth to catch your breath. Your hand is pumping away and your tongue licks at his dripping, reddened tip. You glance up and Michael's back is arched forward with his head tilted back ready for his sweet release. Just then, the two of you are startled by a light knocking on the door to the office.

"Mr. De Santa... Mr. De Santa? You still here?" The voice on the other side of the door jingles the doorknob. You freeze and let Michael's penis slide out of your mouth when he spins around in the direction of the sudden interruption. He snaps back to look at you in a panic.

"Y/N get the fuck under my desk in case they wanna come in!" Michael whispers harshly at you as he shoves his genitals back in his boxers and pulls up his trousers and belt. You pull your underwear back up and crawl quickly around the large wooden desk and hunch yourself in the space underneath. Michael wipes his mouth and lastly pulls up his fly to his trousers and unlocks the door. He opens the door slightly so only his head had enough room to fit through the space.

"Yes what is it? I'm have some work to do." Michael barked to the young man outside his office.

"Oh, my apologies Mr De Santa," The young intern started peeling through the papers on his clipboard finding where to start the topic of conversation. "I thought you'd wanna review the takes we did today. We did some great work-" Michael watched him in horror as the intern didn't go away. Michael opened the door more and lifted his hand. The intern looked up from his notes and made eye contact with Michael.

"-Look I believe you kid, I just can't right now. I'll look over them tomorrow." Michael was short but appreciative of the work that was done today.

"I'm sorry. Of course. I'll see you tomorrow." The young intern slipped the clipboard under his arm and saluted Michael with a smile. He was about to leave before Michael spoke again.

"See ya...erm..." Michael snapped his fingers rudely to try and jog his memory for the name of his co-worker.

"... Todd." The young camera man finally spoke in a disappointed tone.

"Todd! Yes, I'll get back to you tomorrow. I appreciate it, thanks kid." Michael waved then slowly closed the door.

"No problem M-" Michael shut the door in the twenty-something year old's face and locked it again. You waited under the desk and your heart raced as you heard his footsteps nearing then jumped slightly when you saw Michael duck his head down and grinned wickedly at you.

"Good girl." Michael's hand reached in and grabbed your arm to pull your out of the space under his desk. You crawl out and stand up in between him and his desk. Your skirt is still pushed up and sits around your waist. He's pushing his hips into your groin and you can feel his hard-on through his pants and through your panties. You glance down at it and then back to his face.

"That was exciting." You admit as Michael sits you up on his desk. Another moan leaves your lips as Michael's mouth finds your neck. He leaves light kisses on your skin.

"He's about your age" You feel his voice vibrate on your neck. "Want me to set you two up?" Michael was kidding. His large hand reached up under your shirt to fondle your chest whilst the other rested on the side of your face. You felt the metal from his wedding ring brush against your ear.

"Yeah why not?" You exhale hoping it would annoy Michael. It did. He pulled away from your neck to stare at you straight in the eye. Michael's serious look was intense but you couldn't keep your straight face for very long. You pull your shirt up off over your head and stare naughtily at him. Michael's face softens too as you wrap your legs around his waist to pull his crotch into yours. His breath hitches as it makes contact and he grinds his teeth.

"Baby. You just might be the death of me." Michael's hands interlock behind you. His palms rest on your lower back. Your hips roll on Michael's clothed shaft as you slip each strap of your bra down and Michael unhooks the strap that sat on your back. You're impressed how speedy he was at unhinging your bra. Michael takes a second to decide which nipple he wanted to start with. Your eyes close and your mouth hums from Michael's gentle nibbles and sucking as he switches between your sensitive nipples. His lips are soft but his teeth are sharp. Michael makes a loud sucking noise in between harsh breaths when he pulls on your nipple with his strikingly whiter than white, Los Santos teeth. You bring your head back down and meet his lustful gaze.

"Fuck, are you always this fucking corny?" You moan a laugh whilst playing with Michael's hair. Michael pulls away and instead his finger tips take over and circle your nipples. He looks at you with a half smile.

"Yes. Are you always this much of a fucking potty mouth?" Michael arches a brow and then before you can answer he leaves kisses and streaks of saliva in your cleavage.

"Look who's talking!" You breathe a moan. Michael stands up straight and chuckles with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. His stare is dark again and you feel your heart beat banging against your ribcage again. You wet your dry throat with a swallow and wait for Michael to speak.

"Show me how much of a dirty mouth you've got baby." Michael voice is deep and gravelly as it travels up his throat. His piercing blue eyes glance at your lips then back to your own eyes. Michael waits for your response. You make him wait a bit longer and without blinking and breaking eye contact, you answer him slowly and begin to unbutton his shirt starting from his collar bone.

"I want you to fuck me hard from behind Mr De Santa! Right here. On your work desk." You stare into Michael's hypnotic blue eyes. His jaw hangs again, pleasantly surprised at you. He swallows to moisten his throat then replies.

"Shit, you don't have to tell me twice!" Your legs release Michael and he steps backward to give you room to hop off his desk. You lean over his desk again, but this time on the opposite side and facing the opposite side of the room. You hear Michael whip off his shirt and undo his trousers from behind you and he grunts as he pulls his cock out. He pumps it slowly to get it fully erect again. The pit of your stomach tenses as you feel his touch on your backside. Michael careful hands peel your panties to one side and rubs the tip of his penis up and down your opening. Your thighs wobble and your whole body shivers.

"Ready angel?" Michael asks breathlessly.

"Yes Michael! Fuck me already!" You growl impatiently.

"Alright babe." Michael purrs as he slides into you. You stutter a small moan as he stretches your walls. Your nails drag the top of the desk and you moan when Michael is completely inside you. You feel his dad stomach under his shirt rest on your butt cheeks. You exhale loudly when he pulls out of you quickly.

Michael shushes you again. You try to quiet down but can't stop the pleasurable noises escaping your lips. You feel Michael's torso lean over your behind and his hand appeared in front of your face to cover your mouth. He pushes himself deep inside you again and you scream into his palm. He's thrusting quickly smacking against your lips. You hear him straining moans and the slapping of his groin against your backside.

You take in as many deep breaths as you can through your nose but it's still not enough, you begin to feel light headed and whine every time Michael gets rougher with his penetrating. The knick knacks on Michael's desk shake violently and some fall over from Michael's quickening speed. Michael removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to grip your waist. Your vision blurs as your eyes roll back into your skull. You're near your climax and moan out his name.

"YES! Yes Michael! Fuck me harder!" You moan and wait for the sexual bliss to take hold of your body. The familiar feeling in the bottom of your stomach creeps up and your moans get shorter and shorter then become silent as you're closer to your orgasm. Michael grabs hold of your hands bringing them together on your lower back. He pulls on your arms to thrust deep and hard as you release onto his cock. Your walls pulsate around his shaft and your legs twitch uncontrollably. You exhale your orgasm loudly but Michael doesn't care now. He just wants to replay the sweet noise you make while he's inside you. Michael leaves go of your arms and you lazily flop them down to rest in front of you. He slips out of your soaked hole and has his eyes set on another.

"Open that drawer." Michael commanded with beads of sweat running down his forehead. His chest rises and falls with his harsh breathing as he points to a small drawer in his work desk. You do so with confusion and pull the handle of one of the small drawers. It's cluttered with pencils, pens and crumpled notes. You're not sure what Michael wanted you to find.

"What are you looking for?" You ask as you root around in the hanging drawer. Michael backs away from you and leans his hand into the drawer. He pulls out a girthy tube of what looks to you like a tube of toothpaste. It doesn't have a label on it though... Michael unscrews the cap and applies some of the clear substance to himself but before you can ask what he's doing, you feel him apply some to your asshole. _Oh... that's what it's for._

You're starting to regain a normal breathing pattern before feeling Michael's tip poking your asshole. Your head snaps back to him and your eyes widen with horror and a small bit of exhilaration. You didn't peg Michael as an anal type of guy. After Michael lubes you up, he eases himself into your asshole and you cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Fuck-Y/N-you're so fucking-tight!" Michael strains as he pushes more of himself into your ass. You bite down on your fist enjoying the gratification and trying to ignore the pain. You whine as Michael pushes more of himself inside.

"Where's that smart mouth of yours gone huh?" Michael says with a massive grin. His large hands grope your buttocks to spread them as he forces himself inside. He pulls out slightly then back in again. All you can muster out is a whimper at the pleasure and it sends Michael crazy. You massage your clit roughly before he grabs the back of your head and pulls on your hair. He's getting faster and faster fucking your asshole. Michael's skin crashes into yours again and again. He moans profanities as he gets closer to his climax.

"FUCK YEAH- I-STILL GOT-IT!" Michael orgasms and releases himself. You feel the warmth of Michael's cum fill up your ass. You feel Michael slide out of you. You turn yourself to face him and he kisses you hard with his hand snaking up from your waist along your ribcage to your neck. It made you shiver. You pull away from Michael and blink slowly before being mesmerized by his blue eyes.

"That was... unexpected." You say with a sigh as you stroke his bicep.

"You weren't too bad yourself angel." Michael said with a half smile. He pulls his suit trousers up from the floor and fastens it at his crotch along with his belt. He moves away from you to find the clothes scattered around the room from the moment of passion. He picks up his shirt and tosses you your bra and t-shirt. You catch them and watch Michael dress himself.

"... We can't do this again obviously." You say after fixing your bra and pulling your t-shirt over your head. Michael looks up making your heart flutter again. He sees the playful look on your flushed face and moistens his lips as he nods.

" _Obviously_." Michael scoffs with a grin. You can't look away from his beautiful, baby blue eyes as they glisten and catch the light.


End file.
